


Velveteen Shadows

by Missingwings



Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Akechi Goro Gets a Hug, Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Akechi is trying not to have a panic attack, Akira has terrible parents and Ann’s aren’t great, Akira is backsliding rapidly, Akira is confused, Akiren loses their voice when they get lost in their head, All his Personas are Not Happy, All these kids are tbh, Alternate Universe - Twins, And they’re both very affection starved, Arsene is pissed (borderline Satanael transformation levels pissed), Burns, Car Accidents, Characters sacrificing themselves, Chronic Pain, Death, Depression, Depressive Thoughts, Disassociation, Discussions of Self-Sacrifice, Fire, Flashbacks, Forced Drinking, Gen, Goro is a bit too smart for his own good, Goro is a sweetheart, Goro is not having a good time, Grief/Mourning, Gunshot Wounds, Haru is barely restaining herself from breaking people, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Implications of Depression, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Kidnapping, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Memories of dying, Mentions/memories of character death before time travel, Mild One, Morgana and Shiho are concerned, Morgana is a good friend, Multi, NG+, New Game Plus, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), P3 NG+ starring the three protags, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Permanent Injury, Post-November 20 Interrogation (Persona 5), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to/threats of physical punishments, Ren is trying so hard, Restraints, Ryuji’s mother on the other hand is wonderful, SEES are good friends even when they're not sure what they're doing, Scars, Self-Blame, Self-Recrimination, Shadow Yosuke makes an offhand comment, Shido is a bastard, Shock, Side effects of a permanent injury, Status Effects, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, THEY'RE ALL TRYING SO HARD, Temporary Character Death, The PT are becoming a lot more sympathetic to Goro’s willingness to kill these people, Time Travel, Time travel means twisting the truth into a pretzel to fit your needs, Torture, Underage Drinking, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Verbal Abuse, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Yu is a good person, aigis is a good friend and apologetic, akechi once again gets a hug, akihiko is trying to understand and help, akira does not like the evokers, akira has trauma about the police station, akira is confused but wants to help, akira is having a very bad day, akira says hell no to killing anyone just to eat, and actual life savers, and the velvet room, but it isn't the shadow oops, but they aren't invincible, controlling parents, existential questions about soul executions, goro has an auto-revive ability because a certain cup needs its pieces in place, goro is guilty about the interrogation room, he and aigis get their memories back as soon as they meet, he is concened and thanatos is scared of aigis, hell his entire velvet room experience was basically just pure gaslighting, his shadow is displeased with the whole situation, i feel like joker's fusion method isn't talked about enough, infatuation with the enemy, it's there, kind of referenced/sidestepped, magical healing, minato comes to the realization that being the seal of a shadow may end badly, minato handles pressure by flipping the emotion switch to 'off', minato is happy to give him one, minato's isn't great either, minor disassociation, most of them are only hinted at here, nothing graphic but, past attempted assassination, polythief fluff, shido-typical assholery, the IT and SEES are good people trying to help, the IT are un-life savers, the leaders are tough, the phantom thieves are the best friends, the pt are good friends, the wild cards are really close friends you can't change my mind, this time from akira, time travelling to save the world from evil gods, yosuke is a good friend, yu dislikes lying but is more worried about akira, yu has a lot of issues that he ignores, yu is tired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 130,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missingwings/pseuds/Missingwings
Summary: Whumptober 2020 Challenge.The life of a Persona user isn't easy- no matter how heroic it may seem from the outside. And no story has time to tell every detail- things get left out, overlooked, for the sake moving the story forward. The shadows left behind still linger, untold stories in every scar- or lack of them.Shall I tell you? Of the Martyr, the Truth Seeker, the Trickster, and those they gather around them?(Collection of one-shots. Individual chapter warnings in the notes at the beginning of each.)
Comments: 193
Kudos: 309
Collections: Marigolds Discord Recs





	1. Day 1 - Restraints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Torture, Handcuffs, Restraints, Non-consensual drugging, Nightmares

His eyes fluttered open, and he realized that he couldn’t move. He shifted, the hard metal of the backrest digging into his arms as the handcuffs chafed against his raw wrists. He could feel the ache of bruises across his body, though it wasn’t yet bad enough to warrant his immediate attention. It took a long moment to remember where he was around the sharp pain in his head, to remember why he hurt, and his breath froze in his chest.

Sae’s Palace. Akechi. Police station. Interrogation room-

The door clicked open, and he instinctively tensed. He forced himself to relax as men in police uniforms and suits stepped in, carefully keeping his face blank. They’d jump on any signs of weakness, and he wasn’t giving them that satisfaction. That potential opening.

“Ready to talk yet?”

He kept his mouth shut, lips pressed tightly together as he watched the men warily. He hadn’t given them anything yet, and he wasn’t going to.

The man in a suit scoffed, walking swiftly forward to grab the front of his shirt and yank him forward. The handcuffs caught on the back of the chair and stopped the motion abruptly, making his shoulders twinge and wrists burn. He clenched his jaw and kept his face blank. The man sneered.

“You can try and keep that act up- but don’t expect it to last long. You’ll talk, one way or another. Even if we have to get the information through your screaming.”

It took more effort than Akira would like to admit to keep from reacting. He’d known, he’d suspected, it wasn’t a surprise, and he didn’t doubt them, but-

He swallowed briefly as he was shoved back into the chair, shifting his arms to ease the ache.

“Now then, talk. Who and where are your teammates?”

He didn’t answer, and tried not to clench his teeth as pain spiked in his cheek and his head snapped to the side.

“I asked you a question!”

They knew he wouldn’t answer; he’d made that clear. It was clear they didn’t care. They asked question after question, and the more he refused to answer the harder the blows became. Each one shook him, yanking against the chair as the cuffs caught him again and again.

The constant contact of them against his burning skin quickly became the only thing grounding him. The constant stream of questions blurred together, the blows came and went and felt less real as they built up against his bitten-off cries, but the drag of metal ridges against broken skin never faded.

“Tch, are you even listening?” The man stood in front of him with crossed arms.

He forced his head up to stare at him coolly, and still said nothing.

The man considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright then.” He turned and walked past the officers. “Keep questioning him, see if he cracks before I get back. If not, I’ll have something to loosen his lips when I return.”

Dread settled in his stomach, but the man was already leaving, the officers already moving forward.

There was no way to know how long it lasted, no way to keep track of the questions, some calm and some shouted and all accompanied by pain and accusations and yanking against the cuffs as he gasped and bit back noises. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Finally, the door opened and the man stepped back in- accompanied by several people in white coats.

_ Takemi pulls it off better. _ He thought hazily as they set a tray full of syringes on the table.

“Last chance to talk,” the man said as the- doctors? scientists?- prepped the needles.

That wasn’t an option, had never been an option, would never be an option, but Akira didn’t want those syringes anywhere near him. He pulled his wrists apart, pressing them against the cuffs as pain sparked. The cold, sharp metal grounded him, and he didn’t answer.

“Alright, have it your way.” He jerked his chin, and one of the officers grabbed Akira’s shoulders to keep him in place as the other tangled his hand in Akira’s hair and yanked his head back. His back arched uncomfortably as his neck strained against the grip, and he hissed.

One of the coated men stepped next to him, needle held aloft, and Akira jerked in sudden panic as it sank in what they were doing, what they were trying to do. Truth serum, or some variant, something to make him talk or more susceptible to their questions. But the hands and cuffs held him still, no matter how much he thrashed. One officer settled a knee across Akira’s thighs as his hands bore his weight down on Akira’s shoulders so that he couldn’t move, could only grit his teeth and try not to cry out as the needle bit into his neck.

It felt simultaneously like ice and liquid fire searing through his veins, and he choked out a sob at the sensation. It  _ hurt _ , in ways he hadn’t expected.

The coated man stepped back, moved away, and the officers let him go as he shook and slumped forward, biting back tears at the pain as the handcuffs caught the chair and left him dangling. He was distantly aware of the men talking, but focused on steadying out his breathing for the moment.

“Now then-” the suited man was in front of him once more, and he hazily craned his neck to glare up at him, “-let’s see if we can’t get you to talk now, hmm?”

His smile was dark as he stepped forward and reached towards Akira’s head, and Akira tried to twist away with a gasp and-

-fell to the wooden floor with a  _ thud _ , flailing as something tangled around him, preventing him from moving.

Pain spiked though him, and he let out a low, sobbing gasp and fell still. Everything hurt; aches in his head, thorns in his chest and throat, a deep throbbing in his leg. A burning behind his eyes.

He closed them and allowed the tears to fall as he registered where he was. The floor of Leblanc’s attic, tangled in a blanket after a nightmare. It had been almost a week since the interrogation room.

Somehow, he knew it would be a long time before he really escaped its grasp.

“Akira?” A quiet, concerned voice called from above him.

“Give-” the words came out dry and cracked, and he coughed, swallowed, tried again. “Give me a minute.”

Morgana didn’t listen, instead leaping lightly to the floor and searching until he found the edge of the blanket. He crawled underneath it and made his way up to Akira’s shoulder. “Are you alright?” His voice was unusually quiet, concerned.

Akira let out a shuddering breath. He didn’t… know how to answer that. Instead, he just reached up to run his fingers through Morgana’s fur. Morgana leaned into the touch, but his ears were tilted back. Akira was sure that if he could see them in the dark, his blue eyes would be wide with worry.

Morgana nudged against his hand. “Come on, you should at least get back in bed. Laying on the floor like this will probably only aggravate your injuries, and Takemi and Boss will lecture you.”

Akira closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather the willpower to move, but blinked them open when he felt the cloth shifting around him. He squinted in the dim light beneath the blanket and realized that Morgana was trying to drag it off of him to make it easier. His ears were pinned back stubbornly as he struggled to get the edge untangled, almost overbalancing as it finally came free.

It would normally have been funny, except that it was unusual for him to do something like this, to do something so undignified like fight with a blanket just because Akira was tangled in it- and suddenly he was tearing up.

Morgana’s gaze snapped over to him as his breath hitched in his chest, ears pricking in alarm. “Akira?!” He crawled closer. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

Akira shook his head, unable to speak, and rolled to his side to reach out to Morgana. For once, the not-cat allowed him to tug him closer without protest. Akira curled his arms around him and buried his face in his fur, shoulders hitching with sobs. His body ached, this position jostling his ribs and putting pressure on his injured leg, pain spiking with every shake. But Morgana was warm against him, soft fur a comfort against his raw nerves, and he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Morgana leaned against him as he sobbed, not complaining about Akira’s tight grip, or even his fur getting wet, instead pressing his head to Akira’s in a silent attempt at comfort.

As his breathing finally steadied and Akira came back to himself, he sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” Morgana said, nudging him gently again. “Think you can get up to the bed, or do I need to run down and yell for Futaba?”

Akira huffed out a small breath. “I can make it. Besides, my phone’s closer anyway.”

“Your lock screen is annoying, sometimes it’ll let me press buttons and sometimes it won’t. I’d rather just run downstairs and yell.”

His disgruntled tone made Akira huff out a laugh, despite the sharp aches in his chest at the motion, and he finally pushed himself up and the blanket off. He blinked in the early morning moonlight, idly scanning the various knick-knacks around the room. Reaffirming where he was. That he was safe.

Here, at least.

Morgana was next to him, still looking so concerned, and he sent him a small smile before gingerly pushing himself to his feet. He snagged the blanket on the way up, and tossed it beside him as he carefully fell back on the bed. Morgana leapt up next to him.

“Hey…” he trailed off, suddenly looking uncertain. “Are you…”

Akira knew what he meant. He reached over and ran his fingers through his fur again. “I’m okay, Mona. I’m not… I’m better. And I’ll be fine, even if it takes a while to get there. Besides, I have you guys, right?”

“Of course!” Morgana perked up. “We’ll support you no matter what! You can count on us, leader!”

Akira’s eyes softened. “I know. It’s- It’s thanks to you guys. All of it.” His voice was thick, and he reached up to wipe at his eyes. “It’s thanks to you I made it this far. So- as long as you guys are here, I’ll be okay.”

“Akira…” Morgana stared up at him with wide eyes, then sniffed and pressed against him. “Yeah. We’ve come this far together, so we’ll see this through to the end. We’ll be okay, no matter what.”

It was cheesy as hell as far as pep talks went, and Akira couldn’t convey how much it meant to him. So instead he lay back down and pulled Morgana close, the not-cat still uncharacteristically patient, curling around him as he allowed the quiet tears to fall.

After he’d finally fallen asleep again, Morgana tugged the blanket back over him. The November chill permeated everything, especially those prone to nightmares.

Akira was strong, had led them this far despite the odds, but he was still only human. Only a teenager. Morgana didn’t know anything about himself, didn’t remember where he came from or who he was, but he knew he wanted to keep this. Wanted to stay here.

Wanted to protect the boy who sacrificed everything he was to make the lives of others just a little bit easier.

Akira stirred slightly, unsettled even now, and Morgana nosed his way back into his arms. Akira relaxed, curling around him unconsciously.

It made his chest ache, and Morgana vowed to do everything in his power to help Akira from here on. They’d see this through, no matter what, and he’d be here.


	2. Day 2 - Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The acceptance of oneself changes a Shadow into a Persona- but likewise, the reverse is true as well. If left long enough, repressed feelings gain a life of their own.
> 
> Yosuke should have known. Did know, really, but as with everything else he didn't like he ran away from it. Until suddenly there was nowhere to run. Now, he just had to accept that his team was there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Kidnapping, Restraints, mostly accidental self-injury (attempting to escape), self-degradation, implied suicidal thoughts, implied depression, minor panic attack/breakdown

“Where is he?”

Yosuke jolted up at the familiar voice, dread settling in his stomach even as hope flickered in his chest.

_ “Aww, c’mon partner. Don’t be so cold. What’s the rush?” _

He couldn’t speak around the cloth in his mouth, but he yanked against the iron cuffs pinning him to the wall. They bit into his skin, making him clench his teeth against the pain.

“Cut the shit! Where’s Yosuke?!” Chie’s voice echoed, and it surprised him because she… actually sounded  _ angry _ . Concerned. Not just annoyed at the inconvenience. Was she… actually worried about him?

_ “What are you talking about?” _ He could hear the shit-eating grin in his own distorted voice.  _ “He’s right here.” _

Yosuke curled his hands into fists, straining desperately against the restraints. He knew what was coming. He  _ knew _ what his Shadow was about to do. He couldn’t- He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let him tell them everything. Anything.

_ Please _ , he thought desperately.  _ Please, Jiraiya, I’m sorry. I know, alright?! I know, I’ll accept it, I’ll accept you, just please don’t tell them-! _

His Shadow  _ laughed _ , as though hearing his plea and mocking it.

He probably was.

“Not you! The real one!” Kanji snarled angrily, and it made Yosuke flinch. They’d been getting better, but to hear Kanji sound so upset and protective made guilt curl in his chest, sinking to his stomach.

_ “Oh, but I  _ **_am_ ** _ the real one.” _ His Shadow almost  _ cooed _ the words.  _ “Oh, unless you mean that pathetic, worthless shell that pretends to call himself your friend.” _ Yosuke flinched and shook his head, though there was no one to see him behind the curtain.

“Wha- Pretends?” Kanji’s voice turned uncertain.

_ “Well duh. Friends? Don’t make me laugh. Friends is a two-way street. Friends means at least some semblance of equality, not just a guy doing his best to reach out and work around issues while you hide away and fake a smile and pretend that you aren’t looking in a goddamn mirror with every shitty comment they make behind his back. _ ” Yosuke yanked desperate against the cuffs as the back of his eyes burned. Hot liquid soaked into his sleeves, pain sparking in his wrists at every scrape of metal against the split skin.  _ Jiraiya, please-! _

“What?” Kanji sounded confused, and Yosuke squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that Kanji didn’t put the pieces of what that meant together. “Senpai?”

His Shadow laughed.  _ “Oh, confused? I’d think it was obvious, considering how  _ **_desperately_ ** _ he tries to hide it. It’s pathetic really. ‘Course, he can’t pretend right now.” _

“Where is he.”

Yosuke shuddered at Yu’s voice. He’d never heard it like that before. Hard and angry in a way he hadn’t been with even the other Shadows.

Granted, none of the other Shadows had bothered to hide their other selves before.

His Shadow hummed.  _ “Not too far. He’s still alive, if that’s what you’re asking. Mostly unharmed, even. For how long… well, that depends on him. And you, I guess. Not sure why you care, but you apparently do so I’m guessing you’ll get in the way.” _

“Don’t be stupid, of course we care! He’s our friend, no matter what you say!” Chie snapped. Yosuke stilled at the certainty in her voice. She didn’t sound like she was just saying it, she sounded like-

He flinched at the cackle his Shadow let out. He gasped for breath around his hysterical laughter, and though Yosuke couldn’t see him, he could imagine the look on his face. The glittering golden eyes, the too-wide grin.

_ “Hahahahahahaha, the fact that you even said it with a straight face-! Oh man, that’s rich. Yeah sure, it’s easy to say that  _ **_now_ ** _. Easy to declare that you’re here because someone is your friend when their life is on the line, when in reality it’s just your own self-righteousness, your chance to play a hero, that makes you come to the rescue.” _

Yosuke yanked again against the cuffs as his wrists burned. That wasn’t true; he  _ knew _ the others cared. Sure they didn’t always get along, but saying that their actions were just self-righteousness- Maybe that was at least partially true for him, but they weren’t-

“That’s bullshit!” He could hear Chie stomping her foot from all the way back here. “That’s not it at all!”

“Senpai…” Rise sounded hesitant, worried, before her voice strengthened. “Why would you say that? Why would you think that was why we were here?”

_ Don’t answer that, _ Yosuke thought desperately.  _ That’s not why they’re here and we both know it so you don’t have to say it. _

_ “Why else would you be here?” _ His Shadow drawled, heedless of his silent pleas. Or maybe because of them.  _ “You can go on and on about friends, but we all know you can barely put up with me. Sure, you tolerate me hanging around, and Yu-”  _ Yosuke jolted at the sound of his partner’s name in his voice. They almost never called each other by name anymore.  _ “-seems to want me to stick around for whatever reason, but don’t pretend you’d miss me if I was gone.” _ He was shaking. He wanted to deny it, wanted to say his Shadow was spouting bullshit, but hadn’t he been thinking it for weeks now?  _ Months _ ? He knew how much he got on their nerves, and he was  _ trying _ but he didn’t know how to fix it. Every time he tried his big mouth just dug him deeper, and he wouldn’t blame them for  _ not _ wanting him around. This- he didn’t want it to be true, and of course they would say it wasn’t true because you couldn’t just  _ say _ something like that, but…

“How could you even say something like that?!” Yukiko sounded indignant, her voice rising several octaves. “Of course that’s not true!”

_ “Isn’t it?” _ His Shadow retorted.  _ “Really, what about me makes you want me around? The constant arguing? The try-hard attitude? The constant complaints about how much it sucks here? The tasteless jokes just to have something to say? The fake smiles to hide the fact that I’m miserable all the damn time?” _ Yosuke shook his head desperately as tears escaped his eyes. Any denials were muffled behind the gag, and no matter how much he yanked against the cuffs all he did was hurt his wrists more. _ “The excessively bad flirting and stereotypically pervy cracks to hide what I  _ **_actually_ ** _ want? The aggressive denial and desperate close-mindedness for the same reason? The passive-aggressive questions and borderline cruel comments so that no one will guess the  _ **_truth_ ** _? And even partially dropping the act around the person I like- _ ” Yosuke arched away from the wall, twisting his wrists desperately and working his mouth to try and get the gag out of it. He couldn’t do anything. All he could do was sit here and listen because he couldn’t get out but he  _ couldn’t let him tell them. “-it’s not like I’ll ever tell him anyway, so it doesn’t matter. C’mon, name one reason anyone would actually want me around.” _

It was quiet for a moment, the stunned silence resonating, and Yosuke’s shoulders hitched and ached as his knees finally gave out and he fell. The cuffs caught him, edges digging into his hands and leaving bloody smears and sharp pain, and tears finally welled in his eyes and spilled over. His sobs were still silent behind the gag.

Unheard, as always.

“Yosuke…” Teddie spoke for the first time, his whimper echoing. “Yosuke, that- that’s not true! Of course we want you! Sure you complain a lot, but you always help anyways! And you’re kind! You go out of your way to make sure I’m okay, and you buy me stuff even when it annoys you! And- and- and you brought me home! You didn’t have to, you could have just pushed me back in here, but you brought me home and made excuses to your parents and you let me  _ stay _ !”

His eyes were wide as he listened. Teddie was a boundless ray of sunshine, so it wasn’t necessarily surprising that he’d find positive things to focus on but- but he still wasn’t expecting it and his chest hitched in response.

“I’ve never thought of it as tolerating you,” Yukiko sounded nonplussed, though still upset. “Even before we were real friends, you were Chie’s friend and she liked hanging around you. And I like some of your jokes.” He wasn’t sure why he was even surprised by that. But the rest of it- “And it’s not like you’re the only one who feels that way about Inaba. I’m still conflicted about whether I really want to stay or not, and sometimes I really hate it here.” He felt overwhelmed. He knew Yukiko disliked it here, but to hear it like that…

“Y-Yeah!” Chie chipped in, though her voice wavered, off balance. “I mean, yeah you’re a moron sometimes, and unlike Yukiko I  _ do _ think your jokes suck, but so what? It’s not like there’s some sorta requirement to being a friend. You’re annoying sometimes, but so is everyone else. And it’d be weirder if you  _ weren’t _ around to argue with. I mean seriously, I was somehow  _ more _ bored before you showed up.” Leave it to Chie to give a bunch of backhanded compliments. But that was just what their relationship was and it felt more genuine than if she’d tried to be nice. As it was, he felt like he’d been sucker punched.

“Senpai…” Rise sounded sad, her voice unusually solemn compared to her usual peppy self. “I get it. That feeling that as long as you’re smiling it’ll be okay, no matter how bad you feel, because it’s fine as long as you aren’t inconveniencing everyone else. And it just keeps building up, but you can’t say anything because then it’ll upset people. And you try and try to keep smiling no matter what, but you just fall further and further down until you have no idea how to get back up.” He couldn’t breath. He should have known she would get it- of course she would it had happened to her too, but- but she was an idol. She had so much more pressure on her, so it was understandable. She had plenty of reason to feel that way. He was just- stupid. Too sensitive to criticism, too quick to give up. “And it feels ridiculous. That you should be better than this, that other people have it so much worse… but it doesn’t make it go away.” She huffed out a small laugh, voice thick like she wanted to cry. “All you can do is ask for help. I… learned that the hard way.”

He swallowed, blinking through the haze. Even she felt like that…? But…

“Senpai… if you really felt like that, you shoulda said something, ya’ know? I mean, I get bein’ worried about how other people are gonna react, but you shouldn’t carry it all yourself. If you wanna know just ask, right? I mean, that’s what you told me when I was tryin’ to figure out where I was with the group.” He had. That had been an awkward conversation, leaving him feeling uncertain and guilty, but more relaxed about his relationship with Kanji. When he’d start tentatively trying to become more friendly with him despite- Yosuke swallowed and closed his eyes.

Despite Kanji being a  _ goddamn mirror _ of everything he wanted desperately to ignore about himself.

“We’re here, and we’ll support you. Just… let us know, y’know? We’ll be happy to help.” He could mentally see Kanji rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed and worrying about whether he got the message across. He sniffed, trying to breathe around the gag and the tears. His chest felt tight.

“As Chie said, there isn’t any sort of benchmark you have to meet in order to be considered a friend.” Naoto’s voice was as calm as ever, and he could imagine her cool and inquisitive expression as she sorted through the provided information. “The uncertainty of where we stand is something we have all faced. I can understand the wish to present an act, to hide away the uncertainty and insecurities and pieces of yourself that others dislike in the face of criticism. To become something else, so that you don’t have to face how they feel.”

He couldn’t breathe. There was ice in his stomach, a burning brand in his chest, and he shook as blood rushed through his ears. Of course she knew, she of all people would understand that particular struggle. But-

“And you try to hide it, but a part of you is always tired of it. Of hiding, of catering to their preferences and playing by their rules. And that part finds its way out, and you’re left exposed. You didn’t want anyone to know, but now they all do and you can’t do anything about it. All that’s left is a truth you can’t deny, no matter how terrifying it is.” Naoto took a long slow breath. “And after, you realize that it’s a burden you needn’t carry alone. That there are people who care. Who will help, against all logic.”

Yosuke bit into the gag, trying to ground himself as tears spilled down his cheeks and his shoulders shook. Every movement jostled his wrists, aching and burning and slick with blood, and his shoulders were beginning to ache from his weight. It hurt, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. It was all just- too much.

“You’ve been there from the beginning.”

His head snapped up at Yu’s voice, calm and steady and sure despite his earlier anger.

“When we went into the TV the first time, and every time since. Every fight, every awakening, every struggle. You’ve been here, supporting me and everyone else. You’re integral; to the team and to our lives. There’d be a hole where you’re supposed to be, and we wouldn’t be able to ignore it or overlook it. It would always be there.” His voice quieted. “I’ve made it this far because you’ve been there every step of the way, supporting me. I can’t lose you now, partner.”

Yosuke was sobbing. It was inaudible behind the gag, but his whole body was wracked with them as Yu’s words sank in. He couldn’t deny their words, couldn’t hold on to the feelings of doubt and displacement when they so obviously cared.

He didn’t know how to feel. Didn’t know how to reconcile how he’d always felt with this new revelation.

_ “I see. That’s… not what I was expecting.” _ His own distorted voice wavered, sounding as shaky and overwhelmed as he felt.  _ “Guess I should have seen it coming, though.” _ He huffed out a laugh.  _ “Congrats, you finally managed to get your point across. _ ” There was the sound of ruffling cloth, and then his Shadow spoke again.  _ “Here.” _

“This is…”

_ “A key to get him out.” _

“Why hide him?”

_ “Because he’d never let me get a word in otherwise, and despite what it may seem we don’t actually want to kill ourselves. We just want to be acknowledged. Rejecting a part of your soul has consequences. They’re just a bit more literal here.” _ He scoffed.  _ “Good luck keeping him out of that trap, though. You’re gonna need it. _ ”

“We’ll do what it takes.”

Yosuke didn’t know if the startled pulse in his chest was his own surprise at Yu’s firm declaration or Jiraiya’s.

_ “I’ll leave it to you, then. Go on, he’s waiting.” _

A moment later he felt that familiar warmth settle in the back of his mind as his chest lightened.

_ I’d say welcome back, _ Yosuke thought, though it didn’t come out as barbed as he’d intended, _ but I kind of hate you right now. _

_ And whose fault is that? _

Yosuke didn’t answer. He already knew.

And now so did they.

Tears burned anew in his eyes, and he closed his eyes and tried to fight back the sobs. The others were coming, and-

_ “Senpai! _ ” Rise sounded horrified, and he pried his eyes open to see his friends rushing around the edge of the curtain towards him.

Yu reached him first, dropping to his knees with the most intense expression Yosuke had ever seen him wear. He reached forward and Yosuke couldn’t help but shudder and hiss as his fingers brushed the sides of his face as he untied the gag. He could feel the electricity under Yu’s skin, and his eyes were almost glowing from containing Izanagi.

“Sorry,” Yu murmured, taking a moment to inhale deeply.

Yosuke shook his head. “S’okay.” His voice was dry and raspy, and he swallowed. “Just glad I can talk again.” His jaw ached from the unusual position. He tried to shift his weight, and flinched at the scrape of metal against his wrists.

“Oh my god your arms!” Chie hovered, looking like she wanted to do something, but unsure what.

“Senpai,” Naoto said urgently. “We need to get him out of here now. Yosuke, do you know how long they’ve been bleeding?”

Yosuke answered hesitantly as Yu shoved himself to his feet and reached for the cuffs. “I’m not sure- at least a few hours. They weren’t too bad, but they were bleeding a little before you guys got here. I’ve been trying to get out for- a while. I don’t… really know how long its been.” He let out a strangled groan as Yu got one of the cuffs open and his arm dropped.

Chie kneeled next to him and caught his shoulder, holding him still as Yu worked open the other cuff.

“That’s at least several hours of exposure- to both air and whatever was on those cuffs, on top of blood loss. We don’t know if things work quite the same over here, but we need to get him to the hospital just in case.”

Yosuke tried to follow along with what they were saying, but it was becoming harder to focus. He was tired, and felt… cold. Dizzy.

“Right,” Chie nodded, determined. “We busted our way in here, but should we send an advance party to clear the way just in case?”

“I’m sensing a few weaker Shadows here and there along the path,” Rise informed them. “I’d recommend it.”

“Naoto, take Chie, Yukiko, and Kanji and clear the path. We’ll be right behind you.”

“Got it!”

“Understood. Let’s go.”

Yu knelt down next to him again, and Yosuke tilted towards him as Teddie hovered behind him. He caught Yosuke, allowing him to lean against his shoulder as he steadied him.

“Sorry,” Yosuke whispered. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Yu shook his head, resting his chin on Yosuke’s hair. “I know. We’ll be better from now on.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Yu, and everyone, had enough to deal with without worrying after him too.

“I want to. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been there for me all this time.” Yu tightened his arms around him. “I want to be there for you to.” He swallowed, pressing his face to Yosuke’s hair, and whispered, “In whatever form that may be. You’re my best friend, but you aren’t the only one to change attitudes around the guy you like.”

Yosuke’s breath caught, and he tightened his grip on Yu’s jacket. There wasn’t really any way to misinterpret that. He breathed out a shuddering sigh. “I-” His voice faltered.

Yu squeezed him. “Later,” he said quietly. “After we get you to the hospital, at least.”

“Senpai,” Rise called. “Nao-kun’s team is done with this floor. Are we going?”

“Yes,” he responded. “Teddie, you’re in charge of any possible rogue Shadows that appear.”

“Aye-aye sensei!” The bear saluted. “I’ll keep Yosuke and Rise-chan safe!”

Yu nodded, and glanced down at Yosuke. “Think you can walk?”

“I can try?”

“Yeah, that’s a no then.” He leaned forward and slipped an arm under Yosuke’s knees and back, and lifted him.

“Wha- dude!” Yosuke protested. “You’re gonna get blood all over your clothes!”

“Bit late for that, you’ve been leaning on me already. It’s fine, it’ll wash out. Rise, how far ahead are the others?”

“They’re hanging around the entrance to the next floor, waiting for us.”

“Right, let’s not keep them waiting.”

Yosuke idly listened to them talk, exchanging information, and found himself slowly tuning them out. Yu was warm against him, his arms strong and comforting, and his eyes slowly drifted closed.

As long as they were here, he’d be fine.


	3. Day 3 - Manhandled/Forced to knees/Held at Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't the plan. He wasn't supposed to be pulled from the interrogation early, especially not to be taken to a different location to meet with a threatening man with sunglasses. What was going on? What was he supposed to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Referenced Torture and Non-consensual drugging, Handcuffs, Manhandling, Attempted Threatening/Blackmail, Gunshot injury

This hadn't been the plan.

Akira gritted his teeth, straining to see anything around the blindfold over his eyes. The car vibrated around him, but it was silent aside from the quiet rumble of the engine. Aside from a sharp command to shut up when he'd asked where they were going, the driver hadn't said anything.

His whole body ached, especially his still-cuffed wrists, and his thoughts felt hazy from the interrogation. He idly wondered if he should be relieved that they’d gotten interrupted before they’d used more than one syringe on him. He didn’t. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Now he had no idea where they were taking him, what they were doing. The plan was risky for many reasons, but they’d never considered that the police might take him to an alternate location before Akechi got to him.

Did Akechi know about this?

He shifted as the car slowed to a stop, senses straining to get any sort of hint as to where they were. The driver finally spoke, into a radio from the static echo. “He’s here. Let Shido-san know.” There was an affirmative response, and it fell silent again.  _ Shido… _ He had a name, but no way of getting it to the others at the moment.

With the change in plans, he’d need to come up with an alternate means of escape. Assuming there was even an opportunity. And an ability. Compared to the Metaverse, Joker’s abilities in the real world were rather lackluster, even with tools and a clear head.

Well, he’d walked into this knowing there was a possibility he wouldn’t walk away from it. At least they’d made backup plans for everyone else, just in case.

Not that that made potentially literally walking to his death any easier.

The doors clicked open and hands grabbed his arms, yanking him out with a mocking “On your feet,  _ Phantom Thief _ ”. He stumbled, disoriented and aching, and the vice grip around his bicep was the only thing keeping him upright. He tried to reorient himself, to piece together where they were, but the man was yanking him into movement before he could properly catch his balance, dragging him across what felt like concrete and up stairs, through an open door into a building.

The abrupt transition from the biting November air into a warm room was disorienting in its own right, as was the sudden sensation of carpet beneath his feet. He tripped over the change in texture, only to be jerked back upright and pulled along. Down what he assumed to be a hallway, up some stairs, never pausing or allowing him to get his feet fully under him. If they were aiming to keep him off balance, it was working. He couldn’t keep track of how far they’d walked or what turns they’d made. Transitions between rooms and from carpet to tile- or stone, he couldn’t tell- only confused the matter more, and even if he did manage to escape the man’s grasp, navigating wherever this was would present a challenge in and of itself.

He was pulled to a stop, and the sound of a knock echoed through the air.

“Enter.” A muffled voice spoke from beyond the door.

Akira heard the door open, and he was dragged forward into the room. He stumbled to a stop in what he assumed the center of the room, and there was a hand on the back of his neck shoving him down as his knees were kicked out from under him.

His knees hit the carpeted wood with a  _ thud _ , and he clenched his teeth to hold back a hiss. He winced against the light as the blindfold was pulled off, squinting in an attempt to adjust. The room was bright, large windows behind the man at the desk allowing sunlight to stream in.

It appeared to be an office of some sort, with a wooden desk and shelves next to filing cabinets along the walls. The man seated behind the desk was a vaguely familiar face, with orange sunglasses, a goatee, and no hair. Hadn’t he been at the buffet all those months ago…? He’d seemed familiar there too.

“So, this is the mighty “ _ Phantom Thief” _ everyone’s been carrying on about,” he scoffed. “A mere child, playing at things he doesn’t understand.”

Akira narrowed his eyes at him, and stayed silent. This was the man behind everything, who was pulling the strings to the point of controlling the police.

“Nothing to say? It’s thanks to me you even got out of that interrogation room, you realize.” He sat forward, intertwining his fingers on the desk. “I know who you are, I know how you operate. Your choices are limited, Phantom Thief.”

“Meaning?”

Shido smirked. It sent shivers down his spine. “The interrogation at the police station was a nice show for the common crowd, enough to tide everyone over and hold the calm. It would be natural for the police to hold back any statements on the subject for the next week or so- allow the common mass to stew and become somewhat disinterested before releasing a statement about charges- or lack of them.”

“Lack?” Akira didn’t like where this was going, but…

“Do you think that world is so easily believed?” Shido chuckled. “It took a long while before even I was willing to believe it- and I was indirectly involved with the research into it. In reality, building any sort of honest case against you would be nigh impossible- even for a prosecutor of Nijima’s…  _ endowed _ record.”

The way he said that made Akira’s skin crawl, sickness turning his stomach. This man talked about her like-

_ -“Incompetent fools like you just need to shut your mouths and follow where I steer this country!” _

_ “See? This is because you were too damn slow! Get in the car!”- _

… no.

There was no  _ way _ . That was just too-  _ coincidental _ . 

“Which of course, means that the police would have to find some way of falsifying an explanation to the public’s demands in order to openly convict you, or they would have to let you go. I’m sure even a brat like you can understand that much.”

_ -“Damn brat! I’ll sue!”- _

It  _ was _ . Didn’t that just figure. The same person responsible for ruining his life was now trying to end it.

“What do you want?” he asked narrowly, fury and disgust curling beneath the fear in his chest.

“Consider this… an offer. You have two choices right now.” What was he-? “As I said, the police will have to either falsify an explanation or let you go. Which one they choose depends on you… and me.”

_ What. _

There was no way he was saying what Akira thought he was.

“Here is my offer: Come work for me, put your powers in that world to good use… or be returned to the police to rot your life away. If you even make it back to the station, of course.”

_ Work for me or die. _

“You’re the one behind the mental shutdowns,” he said flatly, incredulous. He couldn’t seriously expect Akira to agree to this.

“Ah, so you put that together.” Shido seemed inordinately pleased. “Correct. So, you already know what you would be doing.”

Was this guy  _ insane _ ?

“You expect me to become your personal murderer,” he hissed. “You can’t be serious.”

Shido scoffed, shaking his head. “The pragmatic viewpoint of the naive. You can speak of  _ justice _ all you wish, but it is but an empty word. In the end, your actions are nothing more than a passing fad. They will accomplish  _ nothing _ in the long run, and will have no real effect on changing society. Join me, and I will make your goals a reality.”

“By killing off anyone who disagrees with you?” Akira spit out, beginning to push himself to his feet. “That’s  _ not _ \-  _ ngh _ !”

A hand grabbed his hair and shoved him back down, a foot slamming down onto his kneeling leg to pin him there. “Show some damn respect when in the presence of Shido-san!” The man from earlier snarled.

“Such ignorance.” Shido sent him a condescending look. “Progress requires sacrifice. Those who get in the way are better off eliminated, and the mindless sheep need to be properly shepherded. I suppose I can’t expect a brat like you to understand.” A knock sounded on the door, and Shido smirked. “But then, perhaps you simply need someone of a similar nature to explain it to you. Enter.”

Maybe Akira should have been surprised to see Akechi enter, but somehow he wasn’t.

“You called, Shido-san?” He sent a cursory glance across Akira’s pinned form, and if Akira hadn’t been looking for it he never would have seen the sight flicker of surprise in his eyes. So he hadn’t expected this either.

“Akechi,” Shido greeted pleasantly. “Perhaps you can succeed where I seem to be failing. You’ve spent the most time among them, after all. How would you convince him of our goal?”

If Akira hadn’t spent the last few months becoming intimately familiar with Akechi’s tells, he never would have guessed that he was anything but thoughtfully considering the question as he covered his mouth with his hand. As it was, he could tell by the way he was pressing his fingers into his skin that he was taken utterly off guard.

Akira didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry, because this was utterly ridiculous and mildly cliche and he was almost positive that he was about to die.

“The Phantom Thieves are idealists. Naive and hopeful, with little solid grasp on reality,” Akechi began slowly, and Akira could tell by his phrasing that he was at a loss. He was padding on empty words too much. “They believe they are making a difference, and their short-term success in holding the public’s attention has only solidified that belief. They are heard, and so their message is understood.”

“I would have though Okumura’s downfall would have alleviated them of that misunderstanding,” Shido mused, sitting back.

“No, because they were still in the spotlight. The public was still watching, still listening, and so they assumed that they simply had to prove their point and win the public back.”

The fact that they were talking about him  _ like he wasn’t even here _ grated, but he assumed that was part of the point. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the sting of the hand in his hair, the throbbing of his leg under the guard’s foot, the aches across his body, the fuzziness in his head, the traitor standing just to his left, and stared blankly at the plaque on Shido’s desk as they talked.

He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Honestly, even I’m not sure how to sway them. They are rather deeply convinced of their own self-righteousness.” Akechi’s voice was light, pleasantly musing, and it suddenly struck Akira why he felt like there was something off.

Akechi was talking to Shido the same way he talked to Shadows during negotiations.

Pleasant, fake, empty. Manipulating the situation to get what he wanted. He was saying what Shido wanted to hear, stringing him along to reach some other goal. Whatever was going on, Akechi wasn’t working with Shido because he agreed with him. He had some other goal of his own.

Shido nodded with a sigh. “Well, I rather expected as much.” Leaning over, he opened his desk drawer and reached inside.

Akira went cold as he pulled out a handgun and held it calmly aimed at him.

The guard didn’t react at all, but Akechi arched a brow. “Ah, I suppose I understand now why you came to your private estate for this.” Private estate? That would explain the secrecy, as well as why Shido had a  _ gun _ in his goddamn  _ desk _ . What, did he have a backyard full of buried corpses? “Still, it’s unusual for you to get your own hands dirty.”

Akechi was a goddamned liar, and apparently he was a ridiculously good one because Shido showed no signs of noticing the minuscule way he had tensed and how his voice had gained a strained note to it.

Interesting, considering he’d been planning on shooting Akira himself.

Shame it didn’t matter since Akira was  _ about to die _ .

Akira curled his hands into fists to diminish any signs of trembling, fighting to keep his breathing steady. If he was going to die, he was going to do it looking his murderer in the eyes and showing exactly what he thought of them.

He was prepared for it; but he didn’t want to die.

“It is,” Shido acknowledged. “It’s a waste of time and energy when I have you and the “cleaner” to handle things.” He focused once again on Akira. “Still, I think that this, if nothing else, should act as incentive. This is your last opportunity. Consider this my final offer, and think carefully. Join my cause, and I shall give you the  _ reform _ you so dearly seek. Refuse, and you shall join the others who stood in my way.”

Akira glared darkly at him, Arsene’s familiar fury drowning out his fear for a moment. “ _ Go to hell _ .”

“A shame.” Shido shook his head, as though disappointed. “What a waste. You could have been a valuable asset, however…”

Akira’s ears rang with the loud sound of the gun, and he doubled over as his stomach exploded with pain. He couldn’t breathe through the agony, worse than any of the injuries he’d gotten in the Metaverse. Tears welling in his eyes as he gasped, his body shook as he felt the blood seeping through his clothes.

“Ah, it seems my aim was off,” Shido mused from his desk. “Well, no matter. It will make the cleanup easier, in any case.”

“Shall I take care of it, then?” Akechi asked, and he had his TV expression on which meant he was furious and disgusted and Akira couldn’t bring himself to analyze that because he was  _ bleeding out _ .

It hurt. God, it hurt so much worse than anything he’d ever felt.

Shido waved him off negligently. “I leave it to you.”

“Of course.” Akechi smiled pleasantly.

Akira knew he was a  _ goddamned liar _ .

The guard suddenly yanked him to his feet, and it took everything in his power not to scream as his knees immediately went weak. His breath left him in a sharp exhale, but  _ he didn’t scream _ .

Akechi’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Simply jerked his head towards the door. Akira locked his jaw and didn’t make a single noise as the guard dragged him out, and he caught a glimpse of Shido nonchalantly picking up a pen to write something.

Tears of incandescent rage and grief burned in his eyes at the utter lack of any sort of reaction.

But even that was difficult to hold on to when every movement felt like being stabbed over and over again, and the guard didn’t let him stop moving, to the point where he began to lose focus on anything else. Akechi walked just behind him, doing something on his phone, only looking up to redirect the guard’s path.

He managed to focus on their surroundings again as the guard pulled him to a stop, and he found himself in front of another car. Akechi pulled the door open and jerked his head. “In. I have a schedule to keep.”

Akira bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood as he was shoved unceremoniously into the back seat, trying to stifle any noise. As the car door slammed behind him, though, he couldn’t hold back a small sob. He swallowed hard, trying desperately to shove it back.

He blinked through his tears as Akechi settled into the driver’s seat. “Isn’t that against the law?” his voice was rougher than he wanted, but it wasn’t like Akechi wouldn’t know anyway so the fit of the mask probably didn’t matter much.

Akechi let out a deep sigh as he started the car. “I don’t know what I was expecting,” he muttered. “Bleeding out, and still living up to his code name in the most ridiculous way. One: No, I do actually have a license. Two:  _ I am the law _ . Three: I would ask if that’s  _ really _ what you’re focusing on right now, but I get the feeling you’re trying not to break down, so I’ll let it pass.”

“I’m literally bleeding out and on my way to be murdered, what the hell do you expect?” Akira was shaking, his voice strained and thick, and he hated it but everything hurt and he was about to die.

“Not if Makoto and your doctor friend have anything to say about it,” Akechi said dryly, and Akira’s thoughts became thoroughly derailed.

“I- what?”

“I have to make them think I’m getting rid of you, so we’re meeting up with Sae near Shibuya and she’ll take you back to Leblanc. Makoto already contacted that doctor, so as long as you don’t bleed out before you get there you should be fine. Though you’ll have an impressive scar to show for it.”

“What? But- you- how- and- why?”

“Are you complaining? I can still hand you off to the Yakuza if you’d like.”

“I’m not,” Akira countered hastily, bewildered. “But- you sold us out. You’ve been planning on killing me for over a month. What changed? Also, Sae?”

“I found out that Shido was looking for a replacement so that he could get rid of me, and my timetable to undermine him moved up a bit.” Akechi’s voice was even, but his jaw was clenched and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “And as soon as Makoto found out that your plan had fallen through she stole Sae’s treasure and immediately called her to explain the situation, and got her to help.”

Okay, there was obviously more to that, but Akira did not have the concentration to figure it out right now. They hit a bump, and his breath hitched sharply as jagged agony spiked in his abdomen. He curled forward, shaking, as tears fell from his eyes and he tried not to cry out.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Akechi hissed, but he sounded far away. Akira closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but found himself fading away instead.

When he came back into consciousness, he found himself staring up at a wooden ceiling and laying on something soft. Dust motes floated through the dim sunlight falling through the window, and he craned his neck to see dusk settling over the building of Yongen-Jaya.

He had a split second question of whether it was a dream, when there was a gasp from his desk.

“You’re awake!”

Thankfully, Futaba had the presence of mind  _ not _ to tackle him out of relief, but she flung herself next to him with teary relief.

“I’m awake,” he agreed and tried to sit up, only to immediately regret it as his body suddenly registered that it was hurt, and suddenly  _ everything _ exploded into pain. He fell back with a sharp gasp, face twisting in pain. “ _ Shit _ .”

“Oh, right, don’t do that!” Futaba babbled. “You’re really hurt and Takemi said not to move too much and- actually hang on.” She sprinted across the room and shouted down the stairs. “He’s awake and already breaking the rules!”

“You didn’t even tell me not to move until I’d already tried!” he protested breathlessly.

“But the rule was still there, hence you still broke it,” she said cheerfully.

He groaned, and she laughed at him as Makoto appeared at the stairs, followed closely by Takemi and Boss. And Morgana was suddenly there, looking worried, making Akira smile reassuringly at him.

Then he turned to Makoto and raised a brow. “So, when did Akechi switch sides exactly?”

She groaned. “I don’t… even know. I really don’t. We’re going to need everyone here for a full explanation, and you need to rest anyway, so it can wait. For a little while, at least.”

On one hand, he really wanted to know what the hell. On the other… he kind of wanted to sleep. So. He conceded the point.

“Oh guinea pig,” Takemi sighed, fondly exasperated. “Alright, damage report time.”

Sojiro and Morgana were hovering worriedly, while Makoto and Futaba were by the desk discussing something with their phones out, and Takemi settled next to him on the bed with a focused look.

There was still a lot to find out, a lot to explain, but he found himself relaxing into the security of their presence.

It’d be fine. He’d made it through, and they would manage the rest.


	4. Day 4 - Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Velvet Room is supposed to be a reflection of its guest's heart. What does it mean that Akira's is a prison? Is it even his own influence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anime may not have been great, but it did do some things I really liked. That scene where Arsene is used in a fusion without Ren’s consent is fantastic angst fodder. :)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Technical gaslighting because Yaldabaoth, Existential questions about soul executions, Non-consensual Persona Fusion

The first time Akira woke up behind those iron bars was the day he arrived in Tokyo. He didn’t understand it at the time, brushed it off as a strange, stress-induced dream. The long-nosed man, the creepy twins, the prison cells, ruin,  _ rehabilitation- _

None of it made sense.

And then the castle happened,  _ Arsene _ happened, and Akira found it much harder to simply brush off. So when he was called back, he listened. And asked questions, and received nothing but cryptic messages in return. A trend that would continue throughout the year, though he didn’t know it at the time.

The twins were separated from him by bars, which he came to appreciate quickly when Caroline snapped at him. She almost caught his fingers a few times, and he learned to stand either back or closer to Justine when he was going to potentially say something she didn’t like. Which was… often. Justine may make the occasional cutting comment, but she was much calmer.

That didn’t negate their sheer hostility, but that seemed to be the theme of his life these days.

_ Rehabilitation _ and  _ inmate _ were quickly becoming words he despised.

And then he went down fighting Kamoshida.

“Are you satisfied with this? Going without resistance or action, as before?”

He snarled, grabbing those  _ damn bars _ . “I can still fight!”  _ Don’t mock me! _ “It isn’t over!”

“Very well.” Igor’s voice was chilling in it’s amusement and Akira froze, with the sudden dreadful feeling that he’d made a mistake. And then Igor snapped his fingers, and the world tilted as he fell to his knees, a piece of his very soul being pulled away- carved from his body as Arsene and Pixie burned into existence before the cell. “Allow me to provide you with some assistance.”

He felt hazy- the hole where Arsene was supposed to be gaping in his mind. The fire and rage that simmered under all his other emotions suddenly felt far away, the space between himself and his original Persona, the base of his soul, astronomical as he clung to the bars and watched with dazed horror as Arsene and Pixie were placed behind the guillotines across the room.

_ No-! _

“Persona are personalities that exist within you,” Caroline intoned coldly.

Justine continued blankly. “And by discarding old personalities, your Persona will be reborn anew.”

Akira shook, staring wide-eyed as the guillotine rose. Arsene hovered, chin raised, voice layered with fond amusement, with defiant resignation. “ _ I am Arsene- the other you that exists within. Though I may disappear at this moment, I shall always be at your side. We shall meet again… when your fate reaches its conclusion. _ ” It was more comforting than it perhaps should have been, but it didn’t erase what was happening. That his base Persona, the manifestation of his  _ soul _ , was being  _ executed _ in front of him.

And he could do nothing.

The cloth fell overtop of both of them, and Akira could only watch with ice in his veins as they were bowed forward… and the blade fell.

The sharp spike of pain, like a blade down his back, through his heart and through his head, left him breathless and gasping for air as light flashed and a new shape took form.  _ “I’m Agathion! I’m gonna be your new mask now! Use me, use me, use me!” _ Its presence settled into place in his mind where Arsene and Pixie had been. It was- different. The shiver of electricity humming under his skin where normally there was only Arsene’s dark power- even Pixie hadn’t felt like this, with her tendency to hide just behind Arsene until he needed her.

It felt wrong in many ways, like a shirt that didn’t quite fit, missing that integral part of himself that Arsene had represented. And that he hadn’t even had a choice- that the piece of his soul had been torn from him, shattered, and changed without his consent-

He couldn’t resent this bright piece of soul that was so eagerly prepared to help him, but what Igor had just done left him feeling…  _ violated _ , and while he’d never felt  _ safe _ in the Velvet Room, he’d never been quite so certain of his  _ lack _ of safety here.

“With that, a new Persona has been born. This is another step to rehabilitation. You may continue to strive.”

Agathion was helpful, he couldn’t deny that, but that feeling of insecurity never quite left. Even after the fight against Kamoshida and the acquisition of more Persona. And though he wasn’t forced to fuse any more Persona, he never stopped wondering if Igor  _ would _ force him to if he stopped taking the initiative to do so himself.

His Persona never fought him on it, at least- though they were often as reluctant as he was about it. But they all understood the necessity, and the fear of what Igor would do if they  _ didn’t _ comply, and agreed that at least it would be on  _ their _ terms.

The first failed execution left them all shaken anew, the realization that it could happen, that they might have to retry fusions-

He felt sick, and it took him nearly a week to go back after that incident. Eventually they hit a barrier though, and he  _ really _ needed some stronger powers.

He was more careful about choosing fusions after that. If he’d somehow been able to do something-  _ anything _ \- it may not have been so bad. But he was trapped behind those bars, watching and hoping that nothing went wrong, as the twins carried out the executions and Igor simply watched with that unfaltering smile.

As time passed, he became more and more convinced that there was something inherently  _ wrong _ with the whole situation. Not just Igor’s unsettling aura, or the suppressive aura of the whole Velvet Room, or the faint whisper of a voice occasionally flitting across his ears, but with the twins as well.

The uncertainty, the list and clipboard, the faltering memories…

He wasn’t sure  _ what _ it was, but he knew there was something going on. There was also their unwavering loyalty and respect towards Igor- but there were also hints of  _ fear _ at times, and it seemed to confuse them when it happened.

Akira didn’t know what to make of it, other than that it was wrong and he didn’t like it.

He didn’t like how much Igor knew about his situation and friends, either, on top of the fact that he clearly knew what was coming and refused to divulge it. He gave hints, and vague riddles, and backhanded compliments on top of underhanded criticisms, but never spoke clear truths.

Every meeting left him feeling unsteady and vaguely ill, and though he got used to it he never quite became desensitized to it.

And then the truth came out.

The fight- if it could even be called that with how utterly one-sided it was- with the twins was a terrifying one. It was all he could do to stay upright, clinging to existence by his fingertips and sheer stubborn will as he took element after element with his Persona humming beneath his skin- angry even as their own power was being used against him. But he managed it, and then the butterfly- the girl- the voice- became manifest, and they looked askance of him. Something that made him horrified to his very core; but he couldn’t deny them.

As long as it was on their own terms.

And they became she, and Lavenza stepped forward angrily to speak in his defence. And it was the first time it had happened- except it wasn’t, because she had reached out to him several times before. Had reached out to him in a time of crisis twice before to save him from a moment of uncertainty.

And here she was stepping forward again- for the first time- facing down the being that had torn her apart and held them both prisoner and Akira stepped between her and it as the Holy Grail rose up in its stolen form. And offered a deal.

Akira took a great deal of pleasure in all but spitting in its face, and it disappeared with a final warning.

The real Igor appeared,  _ blindsiding _ him with the difference between the real and the fake. Even the aura of the room seemed to lighten, no longer heavy and threatening as it had been.

Gathering the others didn’t take long, and it was both a painful and cathartic affair. A reminder, of who they were and what they fought for. He stilled, though, when Lavenza called for him.

He hadn’t found Morgana.

His heart was racing in his chest with the fear that he’d lost someone, but Lavenza sent him a soft, sympathetic smile, and looked beyond them.

The explanation of everything was a blur as everything finally clicked into place, Igor and Lavenza being completely honest and- it was different. Relief at  _ finally _ getting straight answers seeped through his body, and Morgana seemed similarly relieved to have his memories and identity back. The reveal that he was the personification of the hope of humanity was- bizarre. A lot to reconcile.

But Morgana was Morgana, and despite what they were facing, they all felt lighter as Joker and Morgana led the way back to Shibuya.

The fight against Yaldabaoth was long and tedious and terrifying but-

_ But- _

Everyone’s belief in him finally made something click. Arsene  _ laughed _ in his head as he heard his confidants one after the other call for him to rise, to stand, to finish this.

And he did.

_ “We shall meet again when your fate reaches its conclusion. _ ” Arsene had said all those months ago when he had been torn away. And now, in the face of the one who had shattered and condemned them, they rose together and made their stand.

Returned the favor tenfold.

It was over.

Except it wasn’t.

With Akechi, Morgana, and Yaldabaoth all gone, Shido facing judgement for his crimes, and the whole of the conspiracy and police department scrambling, Akira found himself returning to square one of his own volition.

A part of him wanted to resent Sae Nijima, but he couldn’t because she was  _ right _ . She wasn’t forcing him, she was making a request for the benefit of his own team, and his confidants.

On his own terms.

Days stretched into weeks and months, and he clung to the good memories of his team and confidants as he lay behind the steel bars. Sometimes it became too much, and he receded into his own head, allowing the whispers of his Persona to drown out the silence of being alone in his stone-and-steel cage.

Occasionally, when he slept, he dreamt of a blue butterfly and a black cat, leading him through hallways of stone, past barred metal openings, but he always awoke before they arrived at their destination.

Not that it mattered. With everything done, they were only dreams. Morgana and Yaldabaoth were gone, and Lavenza had nowhere to guide him. His journey was complete.

Ironic that it had come full circle.

_ On my own terms _ , he thought to himself, and pretended that it was enough.

Until suddenly-

He was out. Walking out of the doors, and Sojiro was there, and everyone was waiting, and-

Morgana was sheepish and embarrassed, but they were all too happy to care. Akira thought he caught a glimpse of blue out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head there was nothing there.

But Morgana was purring in his arms and Ann and Ryuji were pressed against his sides as everyone else shouted and laughed over each other, and he was warm. Even his Persona, always so tense and on-guard, were content and relaxed.

The next month blurred by in a daze of laughter and sunshine and bright colors and  _ freedom _ , and suddenly it was time for his goodbyes before he was returned to his parents.

He collected and cherished every gift from his friends and confidants, but before he could return to Leblanc, Morgana stopped him.

“One last stop, before we head back,” he said, and directed Akira to a familiar alley.

Lavenza was waiting by the Velvet Room door with a book and a smile, and she pulled open the door and gracefully allowed him to enter. It was a jarring, if appreciated, difference from Caroline kicking him through it.

He found himself in a familiar cell, but this time there were no shackles, no prison uniform. No door.

He stepped forward, out, almost hesitantly. But there was no trick, or slamming door, or tiny blond girl with a baton. Igor- the real one- sat behind the desk as he had always appeared to, while Lavenza held her book to her chest and smiled sadly at him. Morgana was a warm, comforting presence on his shoulder as well.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” Igor greeted, and Akira doubted he would ever not be surprised at the difference in voice. “You have been a truly extraordinary guest, Trickster.”

“You are free now, but you chose to be imprisoned in reality even after escaping the prison within your own heart. An ironic turn of events- all because you chose the fortune of others over your own well being.” Her grip on the book tightened, even as her smile widened. “A selfless wish, that led you to choose the correct path of your own volition. You did not compromise your beliefs for personal gain to the very end.”

A glowing light glimmered into existence above him, and he held out his hand to catch it. It manifested into a card- the least familiar Arcana to him.

“The last Arcana you have taken hold of is “The World”. It is the will to stand on your own two feet in the world, swayed by no one. That will become the basis of hope towards a future with your teammates who share the same belief. With that power, you are no longer an existence that wanders alone.”

The card glowed, power swirling up and through him, and he closed his hand on it and accepted the power. Warmth seeped through him, washing away the chill of the memories clinging to this place, and he smiled at Lavenza. Morgana purred next to him.

“We were worried, but you really came through,” he murmured in Akira’s ear. “I’m proud to have been your guide- even if I wasn’t the best one at times.”

“A sentiment we both share,” Lavenza agreed softly. “I owe you many apologies, my Trickster, for how I treated you while separated.”

Akira blinked and shook his head. “That wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you remembered.”

“No, however…” her grip on her book tightened. “It is the duty of the Attendant to assist our guest to the best of our ability. We are meant to guide and help you- not hinder you and threaten you harm. Debilitated though I may have been, it does not negate the harm wrought to you. By my hands, no less.” She sent a long, pained glance to the back of the room- where the guillotines were conspicuously missing. “That you overcame it nonetheless is truly a testament to your own strength of will.”

“You still helped,” he pointed out. “You may not have been  _ nice _ as the twins, but you still made it your priority to help me get stronger. And as  _ you _ \- you helped me at least twice. When I first awakened and in that interrogation room- if you hadn’t been there at that moment, I don’t know if I would have pulled through.”

Her eyes were wide, and a bit wet, and she swallowed with a quiet chuckle. “I- Thank you, Trickster. Truly. My only wish is that I could have helped you as I was meant, rather than as an aside.”

“Indeed,” Igor sighed. “It is the purpose of the Velvet Room to assist its guest, but we have failed you in many ways. For that, I also apologize. As Lavenza said, that you have persevered in spite of it is truly a testament to your will and determination. My duty has ended before I ever properly fulfilled it, and yet you persisted nevertheless. You have truly been a magnificent guest.” He dipped his head to Akira. “However, this is where we part. My duty is, despite all odds, complete. I wish you well, Trickster.”

Akira watched as he faded into a glow of lights, uncertain how to feel. He had a feeling that, had Yaldabaoth not interfered, he would have actually  _ liked _ Igor. Now, he was just torn, because all he could see was Yaldabaoth’s taunts.

Perhaps that was why Igor had left so abruptly. It… gave Akira some amount of relief.

Lavenza was giving him a look that said that she understood, and he sent a weak smile of his own back.

“This is where we say farewell also- although before we do I have some parting reflections, if you’ll hear them.”

“Of course.” He was curious as to what she had to say that she hadn’t already.”

“If one wishes to belong, they must be willing to sacrifice their own needs and desires at times.” She spoke thoughtfully, reflective. “Furthermore, one may even have to cast away their own sense of self for the sake of those who accompany them. Were it not for you, I don’t believe I would have learned these things. I pray that you do not lose sight of yourself in the future- though I somehow don’t believe that you will.”

“I’ll carve my own path forward,” he vowed, shifting his weight back. “Thank you, Lavenza, for everything.”

She swallowed, reaching up to wipe her eyes with a warm smile. “I believe I should be the one thanking you, my Trickster. I have more than mere words to give before we part, however.”

Akira tilted his head, curious, as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key.

“A gift to commemorate the one who stood up and fought for his beliefs, even though it nearly killed him. This is the key to the cell that held you captive for so long.” Grief and guilt flickered across her expression. “In the past, guests of the Velvet Room have received their key upon their very first visit. However, I was unable to pass it to you then. It is the least I can do for you now, on the chance that you ever have need of the Velvet Room again.” She set the key in his hand and looked up at him firmly. “With this key in hand, you will be able to break free of whatever trials may imprison you in the future. Though of course,” her lips quirked up, “-you have already chosen the path to true freedom.”

She stepped back, once again holding her book to her chest. “My only advice to you would be to remember the others who made that path possible for you. Though such a superb Trickster surely already knows that, at this point.”

“Yeah,” Akira tugged at his hair with a small smile, thinking of all his friends. “I know I won’t forget them, no matter what.”

“Good. Well then, I suppose this is farewell.” Her smile widened, though it still held a melancholic edge. “If our paths ever cross or you require my assistance again, know, my Trickster, that I will do my utmost to support you in any endeavor you partake.”

“The same goes for you.” He grinned warmly at her. “If you ever need my help for anything, come find me. I’ll do my best.”

Her eyes were wide, watery, and she let out a small laugh and wiped at them again. “You are truly a wonderful person. I will keep your offer in mind. Thank you, Akira.”

“Thank you too, Lavenza.”

They shared one last smile, and then she, and the Velvet Room, faded away. A flicker of a blue butterfly passed across his vision, filling him with warmth, and then he found himself back on the street of Shibuya.

He let out a slow breath, and curled his hand around the key.

“Ready to head back?” Morgana asked with a nudge.

With his lips curled up, Akira slipped the key into his pocket.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”


	5. Day 5 - Failed Escape/Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignoring your problems is a slippery slope- especially when Shadows are involved. Even Yu isn't perfect, and his Shadow isn't pleased at having to deal with said problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Implied abandonment issues, Implied depression, Physical injury

Yu blinked awake, staring blankly at the white wall in front of him for a moment before his mind caught up to his body and he took inventory.

He was lying on the ground, cold wood of some sort, and the lighting was dim. His head ached, a dull throbbing from the back of his skull, and the rest of his body was sore as well. Certain areas stung more than others, similar to how he felt after being thrown around by Shadows. Slowly sitting up, he glanced around as he tried to gather his thoughts. Where was he, and how had he gotten there?

A classroom?

He’d been… at home, getting ready to make dinner. Nanako had been over at a friend’s house so she would be late, and he’d been planning to make cookies to surprise her after Dojima had called saying he would be late again.

The doorbell had rung, and he’d gone to answer it in case it was the package from Tanaka he’d been expecting, opening the door only to find no one there. He’d made the stupid mistake of stepping out to look around the corner in case he just couldn’t see them, and something had hit him in the back of his head.

And now he was here.

(He had a sneaking suspicion of where  _ here _ was, and he really hoped he was wrong. For multiple reasons.)

Pushing himself to his feet, he turned in a slow circle to analyze the room. It was a generic classroom that could have been found in almost any school. White walls, wood floor, rows of desks and a chalkboard up front. The walls were bare, but there were books on the shelves and formulas on the board. Outside the windows, fog enveloped everything.

It was generic, impersonal,  _ cold _ .

It resonated too well, and he closed his eyes as he accepted that yes, this was exactly what he thought it was. He didn’t understand  _ why _ though. He hadn’t been rejecting himself, there was no reason for Izanagi to turn into a Shadow.

_ “Are you sure about that?” _

He spun around to find a near carbon copy of himself standing casually by the door, though he wore a black suit uniform rather than Yu’s Yasogami one. He stood, watching him with now-familiar golden eyes.

“Izanagi,” he said evenly.

His other self shook his head. “ _ No, not exactly. _ ”

“I am thou, thou art I. Isn’t it the same thing?”

_ “No. The difference between acceptance and rejection is wider than you might think.” _

“I’m not rejecting anything.”

_ “Aren’t you?” _ His other self tilted his head with a small, mocking smile.  _ “Try again _ .”

Frustration flickered through his chest. “I can’t think of anything. I know who I am and what I have, what I feel. What exactly am I missing?”

_ “What are you missing? Oh, but that’s exactly it, you answered your own question. What  _ **_are_ ** _ you missing?” _ His other self turned away.  _ “Figure it out. But don’t take too long- you only have until the fog lifts, after all. And who knows how long that will take? _ ”

“Wait-” Yu stepped forward, but his Shadow was already gone.

He was alone.

Swallowing, he scanned the classroom again. He had no weapons, and a quick search of his pockets revealed a lack of his glasses. He still had some healing items, but that was it. He was missing most of what he had been carrying on him, which meant that either his kidnapper or his Shadow had stripped him of his items.

No ability to fight, and only healing items. This didn’t bode well for his chances of surviving even long enough for the fog to lift.

What was he missing?

He didn’t know. Figure it out on his own?

Dungeons were a reflection of the soul of their captive. If this was his, then it made sense that it would reveal the answers that he needed. But that meant navigating it while avoiding Shadows, and without his team…

Yu took a breath to steady himself, and began examining the room more thoroughly. There was nothing to use as a weapon, and the books on the shelves were typical textbooks.

_ Algebraic Concepts, Trigonometric Studies, Japanese Linguistic Study, English Linguistic Study, Jungian Psychology, History of the Meiji Era, Global Socioeconomic Causes of WWII, _ and so on.

He flipped through them just in case, but couldn’t find any relevance. The closest one to potentially being useful was the one on Jungian Psychology, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t read before. No notes or hints hidden in it either. The problems on the board were ones he’d answered a thousand times before. Nothing special to it.

There was nothing. Just a blank, empty classroom of the like he’d seen in a dozen different schools. There was nothing to find.

He scanned the room one more time, then cautiously slid the door open and peeked into the hallway. There was no sign of any Shadows, but he kept his back to the wall as he crept down the hallway anyway.

The next room was similar, empty but for desks. The books along the walls had different titles and content, but similar subject matters. The board now held linguistic problems rather than mathematical ones, but they were similarly meaningless, no matter how many times he reread them.

The next room was the same, and the next, and the next, until he’d searched the whole floor and still come up empty handed. There were no stairs to another level, up or down, no locked doors, no strange mysteries. No Shadows.

It was deserted, and Yu puzzled over the conundrum-

Not.

A reflection of him. An empty, generic school with no distinguishing features, that was a blur of the dozen or so he’d attended just since beginning junior high. Packed full of intellectual material that did him no practical good. Completely deserted by friend and foe alike, leaving him completely alone.

The symbolism wasn’t subtle.

It was also something he was fully aware of.

“I already know about my abandonment issues and my habit of burying myself in my studies to cope. What are you trying to accomplish?”

_ “I wonder. You acknowledge it, yes. Understand it. But is that enough?” _

“What do you mean?”

_ “You should know. _ ”

Yu pursed his lips. “Is there a difference between acknowledgment and acceptance for you?”

_ “Is that so strange? You can acknowledge that something exists without accepting it as a problem that affects you.” _

He curled his fists, thinking back to night after night hunched over his desk as he went over homework and textbooks and prep workbooks, while classmates talked about movies or parties or group activities- and it wasn’t that he was invited, wasn’t welcome, but he was so tired of spending a few months in one place and making friends, and then being whisked across the country and starting all over.

The schoolwork was the same no matter where he went. The test and workbooks stayed the same. It was easier to hide away and pretend it was fine. But-

“I have friends here,” he murmured. “Yosuke and the others.”

_ “But for how long?” _

His head snapped up. “That’s-”

That was it, wasn’t it? He was leaving in the spring.

“I’m leaving again… back to the city. Tokyo, from what they said.”

_ “And it’s back to square one. Again.” _ His other self stepped forward.  _ “You get it now, right?” _

What he had been rejecting- ignoring. That he was going to be alone again after all this. That this wouldn’t last forever. That he was fully planning on doing the same thing over after he was pulled from his team.

“Yes,” he said softly, closing his eyes as hurt curled in his chest.

_ “Good. Then get moving. You  _ **_are_ ** _ on a timetable.” _

He opened his eyes in time to be shoved backwards, and flailed around to grab something as he was suddenly falling through darkness. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear or sense anything-

Until he hit the ground with a jolt of pain through his whole body. His breath was driven from his chest, and light flashed behind his eyes as his head cracked against the wood floor.

He choked and gasped, curling on his side to clutch at his head where it had been hit for the second time that day. He felt dizzy, unable to focus as he rapidly blinked to try to clear the haze from his vision.

A concussion.

Something shifted nearby, and he turned his head to see a Shadow creeping along the floor. It hadn’t seen him yet, but it would in a minute. He scrambled to his feet and lunged around the corner of the hallway.

He had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over as his head throbbed and his vision spun. Pressing one hand to his head and the other to the wall, he made his way along it. He kept an eye out for Shadows, but there at least didn’t seem to be too many of them. He managed to sneak around them.

He suddenly found himself in the entrance hall and froze. Blinking incredulously at the swirling entrance. If he could make it there-

Yu pushed himself off the wall, scanned the room for Shadows, then bolted for the entrance.

He was nearly there, only a few meters away, when something dark flashed in front of him. Something hit him  _ hard _ in the chest and sent him flying backwards with a spike of pain. Everything went black for a moment, then he hit the ground again and rolled.

His back hit the wall, and he gasped and choked as he wrapped his arms around his chest and curled forward. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. It was a stupid thought, but he didn’t want to be here. And everyone else must be worried by now…

He fumbled in his pocket for medicine. Loathe as he was to pull from his limited supply, he wouldn’t be able to do anything in the state he was in.

A Shadow turned the corner just as he swallowed the pill, and there was a moment of stillness. The the Shadow lunged and he threw himself out of the way and-

-Yu gasped for breath and slid down the door, body shaking from pain and adrenaline. The Shadows were getting more active, more vicious, and he still hadn’t found a weapon. Only items representing his issues, and being forced to actively accept them while also avoiding Shadows was beginning to wear him down more than he’d like.

He was running lower and lower on medicinal items too, and he had no way of replenishing them.

And he was no closer to the entrance hall, either. That one glimpse was all he’d gotten, and since then it had been classrooms and hallways and Shadows.

Forcing himself to focus, he took in the room. A music room, with a piano at the center. Bitter memories welled as he heard echoes of his mother’s voice demanding that he perfect the instrument. He pushed himself to his feet and took a step forward just as another Shadow rounded the instrument-

-Glancing behind him as he reached the stairs proved to be a mistake, as his foot slipped and he fell. He rolled down the stairs and curled up in agony as he reached the bottom. Tears welled against his will, and he let out a low, shuddering breath as he pushed himself up. He couldn’t afford to stop moving, not with some of the Shadows actively hunting him now. He didn’t know if his Shadow was directing them, or if they were just particularly aggressive and knew he couldn’t leave. But he needed to move-

-Glass shattered, several pieces slicing his arms and torso as he covered his face, as the Shadow barreled through the overfull trophy case towards him. He scrambled away, slicing his hand on another piece of glass as the Shadow sent a burst of wind towards him that knocked him off his feet-

“I don’t care about any of that! Let him go!”

Yu blinked his eyes open weakly, his whole body aching and burning with pain. He’d run out of items a while ago, but hadn’t managed to avoid injury. It took a moment to focus on the voices, but his gaze landed on Yosuke as he faced off with Yu’s Shadow and he saw the rest of his team behind him. They looked furious and scared, and he wanted to call out to them. But he couldn’t find his voice, couldn’t muster the energy to even move, much less speak.

_ “I’m not holding him here.” _

“Bullshit!” Yosuke snapped. “Where the hell is he?”

_ “He’s trapped himself here. _ ”

Yu really didn’t have the energy or patience to appreciate the play on words at the moment. “I am thou, thou art I,” he muttered, and forced himself up. “You’re the one who keeps teleporting me around the damn school.” He leaned heavily on the desk as he stared at his Shadow, legs barely supporting him.

His team shouted in shock at the sight of him, bloody and bruised as he was, but his Shadow met his gaze flatly.

_ “Finally came to?” _

“You’ve made your point,” Yu growled. “Anything else you want to throw at me?” He was so tired. Everything hurt.

His Shadow sent him a long, searching look, then nodded with a glance at the Investigation Team.  _ “Well done, you survived and they rescued you before you got killed by Shadow. Now stop ignoring things. I don’t want to have to do this again. _ ”

“Duly noted,” Yu sighed, and watched as his Shadow returned to Izanagi.

On one hand, it felt too easy. On the other, it could just be that Yu had literally no energy or will left to reject or deny anything. His legs gave out just as he team reached him, and he fell against Yosuke with a quiet noise that-

It was a sob. He was shaking. Tears were spilling over his eyes, and he wasn’t sure why but he couldn't stop.

Yosuke clung to him, and he vaguely registered him giving the others orders but he couldn’t focus.

“It’s alright, partner,” Yosuke murmured as Yukiko knelt next to them with a focused look as pieces of the pain slowly faded. “We’ve got you. We’ll get you back.”

Yu shuddered and buried his face in Yosuke’s shoulder. Now that they were here, it would be fine.

Black crept along the edges of his vision, but this time he succumbed to them willingly.

He was safe now, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is awful and rushed but it's after midnight and I'm so damn tired. W h y is Yu so difficult for me to write. This was so forced. I will absolutely come back and fix this later so I can do his dungeon the justice it deserves, but take this 90% whump as is for now so I can sleep.


	6. Day 6 - "Get it out/No more/Please stop"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro was no stranger to pain, but Isshiki-san had said it wouldn't hurt. That the experiment wouldn't hurt him. But it had hurt, and now here he was in front of a blue haired boy in front of a door who looked at him and understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this how the Seal works in canon? No.
> 
> Do I care? Also no.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Restraints, Non-Graphic human experimentation, Temporary medical-induced death, Implied/Referenced past child abuse, Implied/Referenced suicidal thoughts, Suicide ideation, Breakdown

“Will it hurt?” Goro couldn’t help but fidget with the straps on the table. They’d said that they were only there in case of an emergency, so that he wouldn't accidently hurt himself if he panicked.

He wasn’t sure he believed them.

Isshiki-san leaned over him and smoothed his hair soothingly. “It shouldn’t. According to everything we’ve found, it shouldn’t hurt at all. But there’s no way to be absolutely sure, and I’m sorry if it does. Be brave for me, okay Akechi-kun?”

He bit his lip and nodded, internally promising himself that he wouldn’t cry out even if it did. He was twelve, and it wasn’t like he was a stranger to pain. He could handle it.

“Isshiki-san, the Plume of Dusk has fully dissolved into the solution. We’re ready to begin.”

“Good.” She flashed a smile at Goro and moved to the machine his IVs were connected to. “The solution is stable?”

“Yes, it seems to be resonating with the fragments within the range of our calculations.”

“Keep an eye on those, if they desync it could be catastrophic.”

“Understood!”

Goro listened to the scientists talk, though most of it didn’t make much sense. But he lay still and waited for the machine running the IVs to turn on nervously. Isshiki-san was kind, and participating in the program was better than any of the homes he’d been sent to, so he didn’t mind the physical exams and mental tests and puzzles they did. They were more interesting than his schoolwork anyway. And they said the research was really important. So he was part of something big and important, which was cool.

Even if this was kind of scary, especially with how serious everyone was.

“Alright,” Isshiki-san was watching the machine with a serious look. “Fragments stable, beginning transfusion… now.”

Goro couldn’t help but tense as a glowing blue liquid was pushed into the tubes, flowing towards him steadily. He swallowed and clenched his teeth as it almost reached him- then gasped as he  _ felt _ it enter his body. It was  _ cold _ , but also somehow- not warm but- hazy? Like- static electricity in the winter.

“Five percent successful transfusion, resonation stable. No sign of change within the subject.”

Goro tried not to bite his lip as the static feeling built. It felt weird, buzzing around his whole body. Kind of like the alcoholic drink one of the adults in a home had tricked him into drinking as a prank once, but this was a lot stronger and it kept building.

“Fifteen percent, all stable.”

He shifted uncomfortably as the feeling turned into a physical sensation, like ants crawling all through his body. It still didn’t hurt, though, but he wondered. It felt like this, and it was only at fifteen percent- that still left eighty-five to go.

A jolt of  _ something _ shot through him- like electricity but cold- and he jerked against the restraints reflexively.

“Akechi-kun?” Isshiki-san glanced over at him with a focused look. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

“I- I’m alright,” he winced. “It doesn’t hurt just- feels strange. Like- like my body’s buzzing, but it’s- it’s cold?” He didn’t know if that made sense, but she nodded in a way that meant she wasn’t surprised, so he supposed it did.

“Twenty-five percent, all stable.”

Another jolt, but he was ready for it this time so he just grimaced. It didn’t quite hurt, but almost. It was getting hard to focus on anything but the buzzing under his skin, everything else starting to feel distant. His whole body felt like it was vibrating.

“Thirty percent, all stable.”

Goro closed his eyes with a furrowed brow as he tried to figure out what the buzzing  _ was _ . It was cold, he knew that, but it was also- also- burning, in a way. Like mint chapstick on a split lip. It didn’t  _ hurt _ , but it stung.

_ “-isn’t- - -right- - -not- - -dangerous- - -stop- - -can’t- - -Nyx- - -awake-” _

He pried his eyes open- stange, it hadn’t been this hard a few moments ago- and looked around the room for the voices. It didn’t sound like any of the scientists, had someone else come in?

But there wasn’t anyone but the half dozen or so scientists and him, and none of them were speaking except the man watching the machine beside Isshiki-san.

“Forty-five percent, all stable, fragments showing signs of initial activity. Subject showing signs of being affected, preemptive signs of unconsciousness confirmed.”

The man sounded distant, like he was coming from another room, and Goro had to struggle to focus on him or his words. They didn’t sound good- they were spoken casually, like there was nothing wrong, though, so… it- probably wasn’t bad? But the burning was getting stronger, overtaking the buzzing, and it was uncomfortable.

“Isshiki… san…?” he murmured.

She flashed him a warm, if tense, smile. “It’s alright, Akechi-kun. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hazy… can’t- think well?”

“It’s alright,” she assured him. “That’s supposed to happen. You’ll fall asleep for a little while, and then we’ll pull you back up. This is just to see if the solution actually works with people. It shouldn’t hurt you, you’ll probably just have some strange dreams.”

She was doing that thing that adults did when they assumed he couldn’t understand complex ideas, so they simplified it to the point where it was almost a lie. He  _ knew _ it wasn’t that simple, they just hadn’t explained what the solution was or what they were trying to do. And they used a lot of specific references to things, so he hadn’t been able to figure it out.

They hadn’t hurt him the way most of the homes had, so he hadn’t really cared, but he suddenly found himself afraid as another jolt echoed through him. The voices had sounded upset too, wherever they had come from.

“What- what’s…” he couldn’t finish, the words slipping away as he fought to stay awake.

“Sixty percent, all stable. Fragments gaining activity. Subject obviously affected, struggling to stay awake.”

He fought to keep his eyes open as another jolt rocked him- then didn’t stop. It surged up through him, burning through his whole body like an icy inferno, and he shouted and tried to pull away, trying to get away from the overwhelming tide. It encompassed him, blocking everything out, like icy claws grabbing onto his stomach and head and pulling him into dark water.

“Stop-” he choked out. “Stop- get it- get it out- stop it-” It hurt and it terrified him and he wanted it  _ gone _ .

He heard voices echoing-

-“Seventy percent!- fragments active- solution responding- Isshiki-san- he- calm- restraints- continue-”

_ “-Can’t- - -stop- - - awake- - - fall- - - catch- - -” _

**_“Come- hear me- come to me- answer my call-”_ **

-it was too much. It burnedburned _ burned _ , frozen fire that scorched his nerves.

“Please, stop it-” his voice was drowned out by the noise. “No more, enough, stop, pleaseplease _ pleasestopithurts-” _

His vision was blurry and fading, and he was cold but felt like he was on fire, the voices all talking over each other hurting his head and leaving him disoriented and confused and-

It was dark. Cold. Empty.

He was falling.

_ “-no- - -fall- - - go- - - no-!” _

**_“Come to me… Come… Answer my call…”_ **

_ “-can’t- - -stop- - -go- - -help- - -no!” _

**_“Come to me child… allow me to give you peace… come-”_ **

_ “I SAID NO!” _

The voice echoed angrily, and the burning from earlier swirled around him. It solidified into something, the burn fading into a powerful warmth surrounding him and chasing away the cold. He was cradled against something securely, as though being held by someone.

Prying his eyes open, he saw dark cloth, and the edge of a white helmet? He assumed, though craning his neck he realized it looked like a strange skull. There was a ring of something over his back, but Goro couldn’t make it out from this angle. A glance down revealed white gloves- and the endless darkness beyond.

The voices had gone quiet, as though blocked out. Perhaps he should have been more scared than he was, considering he was being carried by an obvious monster, but it didn’t hurt anymore. And despite its terrifying appearance, he felt no malice from the creature.

He was distracted by light, and turned his head to see a giant golden door. He blinked.

“What…?” he murmured.

_ “He’ll explain once we arrive.” _

Goro jerked and looked up at the monster as it spoke in a strange, two-tone voice. “You can- Right. Of course you can talk.” He fell quiet as he thought over what had happened in the last- ten, fifteen minutes? It felt like hours, and seconds. “Am I… dead?” It was a cliche question, and he always rolled his eyes when it came up in anime or manga, but-

_ “In a sense.” _

“That’s… usually a  _ yes _ or  _ no _ question,” Goro whispered, curling against the creature. He felt small, scared, and tears burned in his eyes. This wasn’t fair. Why did this happen? She’d said it would be okay. That it probably wouldn’t hurt. That it wouldn’t hurt him.

Why did adults always have to lie?

He didn’t particularly care whether he lived or died, after his mother and the homes, and everything else- but like this- it  _ wasn’t fair _ .

He’d thought that maybe, maybe there would be a point to it. He could be useful, if not particularly cared about. Isshiki-san had always been kind. Was that just an act to make him cooperate?

Probably. That was usually how it turned out.

The creature came to a stop in front of the door, floating gently to the white platform it rested on. Fog drifted around them, the endless void of stars beyond the edge.

A boy, only a few years older than Goro, turned from the door to look at them.

_ “Nyx?” _ The creature asked, lowering Goro gently to the platform.

“Quiet, for the moment.” The boy answered. “The use of the Plumes drew her attention, but without Erebus to act as a summon she loses interest fairly quickly. Their wishes aren’t strong enough for her to consider it worthwhile- for now.” His attention focused on Goro. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Goro said, examining their surroundings. He felt calm- too calm. Numb. “Who are you?”

“Minato,” he answered. “That’s Thanatos- or Ryoji, when he bothers to shift over. Which he should.”

_ “He doesn’t seem bothered.” _

“He’s still in shock. Once it sinks in he’ll be much more upset.”

“I’m right here,” Goro said pointedly.

Minato shrugged. “Thanatos is a piece of Nyx, the Goddess of Death, that was sealed into me and gained sentience. He doesn’t always get the whole “human” thing, so I give background information as needed.”

The creature shrugged and, with a swirl of that icy-burning-electric feeling, vanished. In his place was a human boy with dark hair and a bright yellow scarf. “He’s in shock and you give the full explanation?”

“Someone has to,” the boy- Minato- said, and Goro decided that he liked him.

He kind of liked the monster-person-death god-thing too, but he couldn’t place why. He had a warm, kind aura, though. Maybe that was why.

“What is this place?”

“The edge,” Minato intoned ominously, and Ryoji coughed to hide a laugh.

“This specifically is the seal holding Nyx, so she doesn’t resurrect and wipe out humanity,” he explained. “Minato and I are kind of powering the seal, so we can’t leave. It’s… well, Minato was right about that. We’re on the edge of death, the brink between The World and the Sea of Souls.”

“The edge of death,” Goro murmured. “So when you said “In a sense”-”

“You’re… dead, but you haven’t passed beyond the boundary.” Ryoji said. “You can still go back, with the right pull.”

“And push,” Minato said. “Although your case is a bit special anyway.”

Special? “Why?”

Minato sighed, and sat on the ground. Ryoji flopped down next to him, and gestured to Goro with a smile. He hesitated a moment, then settled across from them.

“Past resurrections of Nyx have left fragments of her scattered about,” Minato said, fiddling with the headphones around his neck. “They’re called Plumes of Dusk and hold pieces of her power.”

Goro swallowed. He recognized the name. “That’s… what they injected into me,” he said quietly.

“Yes.” Minato nodded. “I’m not sure what they’re trying to do- perhaps find a way to fight her, or uncover secrets about how she exists. Regardless,” he grimaced, tugged on his headphones. “-they’re using her power in experiments. That’s going to draw attention eventually.”

“It certainly caught Nyx’s attention,” Ryoji said, tipping his head back to look at the door. “The seal prevents her from taking direct action, but she can still pull souls into the beyond if their soul becomes literally tied to her.” He sighed, and looked at Goro. “Glad I caught you.”

“I- thanks,” Goro said quietly, head spinning. This was- a lot of information, and he was sure there was plenty that they weren’t mentioning. But they were  _ telling _ him things. They were being honest, explaining, not treating him like a child who wouldn’t understand. No one else did that. It felt- good, even as it was overwhelming. “Did- did they- know?”

The two exchanged a glance.

“They probably don’t understand the full force of what they’re dealing with,” Ryoji said carefully.

“But they must have known it was dangerous, and that there was a high risk,” Minato said bluntly. “Considering what she said, about sleeping and strange dreams, it’s possible they planned to induce a form of circulatory arrest to test the revival or metaphysical properties of the Plumes.”

Goro hesitated, trying to parse that, and Minato elborated.

“Circulatory arrest is a temporary clinically dead state, usually used for brain or heart surgery. Plumes have revival properties, too, so they could be testing that. Or if Nyx’s power is active, or if it can be used by people. Who knows.”

“Oh,” Goro said quietly. They idea that they had purposely killed him to see if they could bring him back-

It was ridiculous and dramatic, something from anime or tv shows or games but- with the explanation of what Nyx was, suddenly a lot of things made sense. He could understand a lot of conversations he’d missed before and- and- and-

Tears burned in his eyes, because that was exactly what they had done, wasn’t it? “To see if the solution would work on a person.” His breath hitched in his chest, tearing from his throat in a sob as he covered his face. It wasn’t  _ fair _ .

“Minato!” he vaguely heard Ryoji’s panicked hiss, and Minato’s sigh.

“Humans suppressing emotions is bad, Ryoji. Internalizing things is what leads to Nyx resurrecting. Ignoring and boxing up feelings means depression and anxiety and suicide ideation, and I would like the child traumatized by a parent’s death and thrown into the cesspool of Japan’s foster system to  _ not _ become the hyperdepressed anxiety-riddled teenager who genuinely could not care less if he died, and actively seeks it out at times.”

“… Huh. For some reason I feel like you’re projecting.”

“I wonder why,” Minato deadpanned. “Goro.”

He jerked in shock at his name- no one had called him that since  _ her _ \- and peeked though his fingers to see the blue haired boy holding out his arms. He froze, bewildered at the motion.

Minato flicked his fingers towards himself. “C’mon. You need a hug, and I need to give you a hug so I don’t feel like I’m failing miserably at this.”

Goro couldn’t hold back his snort of incredulous laughter, watery though it was. He… really liked Minato. He crawled forward and fell against the teenager as he was pulled into his arms. Minato was warm too, his arms solid around Goro. For the first time he could remember, he felt safe.

Ironic, considering he was  _ dead _ .

Tears spilled over again, and he sobbed into Minato’s shoulder as the boy hugged him. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was enough. More than enough. When was the last time Goro had been genuinely hugged? He couldn’t remember. Even  _ she _ had resented him too much to ever really show affection. He wanted to stay here forever. To hide in the arms of this boy who clearly understood, who was  _ the same _ if what he’d said was true, away from the pain and the lies.

He pulled back abruptly. “Can- Can I stay?”

Minato looked at him sadly. “Goro-”

“ _ Please _ ,” Goro begged, tears springing anew in his eyes. “Please, please don’t make me go back. I don’t- I don’t want to. I’m tired of- of everything. People hurt and lie and I can’t take any more.”

He was pulled forward, and Minato pressed their foreheads together. “I know,” he said quietly. “It’s awful and the world is cruel and careless, and it feels pointless. It’s meaningless, and no one cares anyway, so why bother? It’d be so much easier to simply fade into nonexistence.”

Goro trembled against him as his tears fell down his cheeks. “I just want… a reason to exist. And I don’t- I don’t have one,” his voice cracked. “No one cares. No one has ever cared. Even  _ she _ hated me. I’m a curse to everyone, and no one would miss me, so-” he broke off as his voice gave out. shoulders shaking with sobs.

Minato carded a hand through his hair soothingly. “I know,” he murmured. “I was the same. There was never a reason, never an answer as to why I should bother. I just drifted, waiting for the end. But then I found the answer, and the people who made waiting worth it.”

“What if there isn’t anybody?”

“There will be. It might take some work to find them, but they’ll be there. Probably when you least expect it.” Minato smiled at him. “So just hold on until then, okay? And no matter what, you aren’t alone. We’ll be watching, after all.” His smile turned rueful. “Not much else to do here.”

That was comforting, in a strange way. To know that he wouldn’t be  _ totally _ alone, even if he couldn’t see or talk to them.

“Okay,” he whispered, wiping at his eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

A hand settled on his back, and he glanced back at Ryoji. He smiled at Goro. “And it’s not like we’re going anywhere, either. Death comes for all equally, no matter the time. You only have a few years to live, you’ll end up back here eventually anyway. Don’t rush it, and miss other chances.” Grief flickered in his eyes as he glanced to Minato. “You might regret those missed chances later.”

Minato rolled his eyes. “ _ You _ have more regrets than I do. Stop blaming yourself.” He pushed himself to his feet, offering his hand, and Goro allowed himself to be pulled up. “He’s right, though.” He smiled. “Don’t give up on those chances.”

Goro met his eyes and nodded.

“I won’t.”

Minato’s warm smile widened, and he nodded to Ryoji.

When he woke up, Isshiki-san was leaning over him with a concerned look, while the other scientists milled around talking over data. When they asked him what he had dreamed about, he looked them in the eye and said, “Nothing. Should I have?”

He could almost hear Minato’s laughter in his head.

Five years, a government conspiracy, and a battle with a false god later, Goro reflected back on Minato’s words with gratefulness as he tried to get comfortable in a beat up old van, as Ryuji sprawled against him to yell up at Akira about eating bugs.

Futaba was laughing at them from the back while Haru and Yusuke mused about the taste, and Ann was making a disgusted face. Makoto looked like she was debating slamming on the brakes to teach them all a lesson as she navigated the highway. Morgana leapt over to join Ryuji in yelling at Akira, and a smile tugged up at Goro’s mouth.

Minato was right. This was worth the wait.

Then Akira started coughing and gagging, dropping back into the van with a horrified look on his face as he scrubbed at his mouth, and the whole group descended into hysterics.


	7. Day 7 - Support/Carrying/Enemy-Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Status effects were tricky, especially of the Charm variety. Joker takes a hit in Mementos and falls into infatuation with the enemy- but it isn't the Shadow who's the focus of his attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this got away from me and was late. But I like it, so…
> 
> (God it’s so long. This is what usually happens when I try to write one-shots. The others were flukes, apparently.)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Status effects, Referenced future assassination attempt

_ “Joker, careful! The Shadow’s charging something up!” _

“Any idea what it is?”

_ “I think it’s a status effect, but I can’t tell for sure. It looks like it’s gunning for you though, so watch it!” _

“Right,” he said, and focused back on the battle. “Queen, Crow, circle around, hit it from the back once it’s distracted. Skull, get some distance and get ready to distract either it or me, depending on whether I can dodge.” The problem with status effects was that half the time they didn’t see where they were hitting until they had already made contact.

“Got it!” Skull leapt back, and the other two nodded and split off.

Mentally flipping through Persona, he pulled Norn to the forefront. She was relatively new but her support abilities were invaluable. The ability to use Amrita Drop didn’t negate status effects, but he  _ had _ noticed a minor decrease in how often they stuck when he had it on a Persona. Plus Norn absorbed wind, so this Shadow’s normal attacks wouldn’t work either.

The Shadow screeched and flapped its wings, and Joker tensed as a glowing ring swirled around it. The light flared, and he threw himself to the side in a dodge.

He rolled back to his feet and found his eyes immediately drawn to Akechi as he leapt into the air and twirled, slashing down into a devastating attack onto the Shadow. It staggered directly into Makoto’s attack as she slammed her fist into its face and knocked it down. The two of them immediately leapt into a combo attack, and Akira felt his lips tug into a smile as Akechi backflipped into a trickshot.

“Effin’ showoff,” Ryuji grumbled as he walked over, though there was little heat to his words. He was watching Makoto pull similar moves with an appreciative expression, and the two of them were poetry in motion. Akechi may have been flashy and over the top, but really, so were the rest of them. Honestly, he fit in incredibly well despite what he had joined for. It was hard to dislike him when he clicked so well into their dynamic, and when he lowered his walls to be more honest with his personality.

His arguments with Futaba over Featherman facts was adorable, and despite their quickly established rivalry, he and Makoto seemed to enjoy their conversations. He and Ann talked about food a lot, and he listened to Yusuke’s art rants with a curious ear. Even Haru, the person who had the most reason to hate him aside from Futaba, seemed to get along well with him. Ryuji didn’t trust him, and was trying to keep a distance between them, but even he admitted that he had fun talking about some of the anime favorites they had in common.

The idea that he would leave the team made Akira ache. He wanted him to stay. He wanted to keep seeing that smile as he tag-teamed Shadows with their teammates, wanted to feel that warmth against his shoulder as they trawled Mementos.

_ “Oh crap!” _ Akira vaguely registered Futaba’s voice as Akechi and Makoto summoned their Persona for the final blow.

“Oracle? What’s up?” Ryuji straightened, and Akira noticed Makoto and Akechi tense.

_ “Joker got hit with the mystery spell! It looks like some special variation of Marin Karin, but I can’t tell for sure…” _

“Wha- really?!” Ryuji’s head snapped towards him and Akechi and Makoto glanced back with concern as the Shadow faded. “But he ain’t doing anything!”

_ “Exactly! Isn’t that weird? Normally he’d have jumped in to finish the fight.” _

Akira tilted his head. “I… got distracted?” He watched Akechi and Makoto walk back to them, puzzled. “I’m not sure… I don’t feel anything unusual.” Did he? It felt different from Marin Karin. He could still think clearly; he didn’t have the overwhelming urge to do anything the voice in his head said.

_ “Hmm… give me a second to analyze it again. What Persona do you have up?” _

His Persona…? It took a moment to redirect his attention from watching Akechi sheath his sword and remember. “Oh, Norn.”

_ “Does it have anti-status abilities?” _

“It has Amrita Drop,” he confirmed absently as he watched Akechi straighten his clothes. “And absorbs wind.

_ “That could be why it’s not having an obvious effect…?” _ She sounded uncertain.  _ “Try casting Amrita Drop on yourself. It’s a special ailment so it might not work, but it’s worth a shot.” _

He tilted his head and reached for Norn, only to realize he couldn’t hear her. Or any of his Persona. He furrowed his brow with a frown, trying to remember the instinctive feel of calling a Persona, but the sensation kept slipping away as his gaze kept drifting back to Akechi. “I… don’t think I can.”

_ “Yeah, I figured. The ailment keeps interfering with your thoughts, and you’re getting distracted by something. Usually it’s the Shadow but-” _ She suddenly cut off, and it was silent for a few moments.

“Oracle?” Makoto asked, concerned. “What is it?”

_ “Oh my  _ **_god_ ** _ , _ ” Futaba sounded like she couldn’t decide between laughing or panicking.  _ “It’s a Charm ailment. Looks like it didn’t work like that Shadow wanted, because he’s not infatuated with  _ **_it_ ** _.” _

“Who did it draw his attention to?” Akechi asked, but he had that look of dawning realization he got when he figured out a puzzle and he glanced at Akira.

_ “Um.” _

“I… think that’s rather obvious,” Makoto folded her arms thoughtfully. “Considering he hasn’t stopped staring at you.”

Akechi sighed. “I was really hoping I was wrong. Oracle, what exactly is it doing?”

_ “I… really can’t tell. It doesn’t look like it’s doing much of anything, other than just… redirecting his attention, I guess? It’s not like, doing what Marin Karin does or anything.” _

“Well, can’t we get it off him?” Ryuji shifted his weight, expression tight. “Who knows what it’ll do to him if we leave it alone.”

_ “Try an item, but if that doesn’t work then we’ll have Noir try Amrita Drop when we regroup. I’ll keep an eye on him from my end, but it doesn’t seem to be dangerous- for now, at least. Just be careful, if nothing else he can’t use his Persona right now.” _

“Right,” Makoto said firmly. “We’re on our way back now.”

Once they’d regrouped without incident, though Akira found himself drifting closer to Akechi without really noticing until their arms were almost brushing, Haru called Astarte and tried Amrita Drop. None of them were particularly surprised when it didn’t work, though he could see that it worried the others.

Akechi was also being unusually quiet, hand covering his mouth as he mulled over something.

“So what do we do?” Ryuji asked, scuffing his foot with a scowl.

Morgana sighed. “It can’t be helped. If Joker can’t use his Persona we’ll simply have to pull back for today. If we’re lucky, the ailment will wear off once we leave Mementos.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Akechi finally spoke up. “How exactly is it going to affect him? I’d rather avoid any potential scenes in the middle of Shibuya’s subway.”

Morgana’s tail twitched. “That’s a good point. Charm ailments usually have a lot stronger of a response, so it’s possible that it’s only so calm because of proximity and the benign atmosphere. If you try to split up, it could react the way a normal Charm ailment does.”

They all winced. They were familiar enough with Charm ailments to know the reactions of a brainwashed party member when removed from the object of their attention.

“Hence, a scene in Shibuya’s subway,” Ann groaned. “That’s… great. So what do we do?”

“Well, in the worst case scenario, the ailment doesn’t wear off,” Makoto said. “Meaning that it would… probably be best that they aren’t separated.” She winced as she said it, reluctance clear.

“Seriously…?” Ryuji crossed his arms. “Is that really okay?”

Akira was watching Akechi’s reaction, worry curling in his chest. Considering his busy schedule, it was probably an inconvenience for him. He definitely saw their point, though- even the thought of being away from Akechi made something hot in his chest and cold in his stomach. But if Akechi didn’t want to deal with him-

(Rationally, he knew it shouldn’t make him so upset. Shouldn’t make him want to curl up and cry. But the thought of Akechi saying he wasn’t interested and they needed to find some other solution was  _ devastating _ .)

Akechi was covering his mouth again, as though trying to hide his thoughts, but he must have felt Akira’s gaze because he glanced over. Their eyes met, and Akechi quickly looked away with a tight expression. He looked worried. About what, exactly, Akira wasn’t sure.

“Tomorrow’s a Sunday, and I don’t have to work, so it isn’t exactly a bother,” he said, though his worried expression didn’t fade. “But won’t Sakura-san be worried?”

“Hmm, true…” Futaba hummed. “Akira’s not really  _ subtle _ right now, and he’d definitely notice and think it was weird. And I have no idea how we would explain that without getting called out for it.”

“That’s true,” Morgana sighed. “It’s not like we can explain the situation to Boss.”

“I can’t even imagine his reaction…” Ann shook her head with a sigh.

There was an obvious solution to the problem, but it was clear none of them wanted to be the one to bring it up. He… knew why. Leaving him alone with Akechi while under a Charm status effect was all but asking for disaster. But it should be safe; whatever Akechi was a part of obviously needed the November 20th operation to go through as well, otherwise they would have just sent Akechi to kill them as Black Mask.

Morgana sighed again and caved. “You have an apartment, right? Would that be okay?”

Akechi frowned and nodded slowly. “It… would, assuming the proper excuses could be made to Sakura-san. However…”

“What is it?” Haru had her hands laced together, but Akira couldn’t decipher her feelings on the matter behind her hat, mask, and usual prim posture.

“We’ll have to be discreet with Mona,” Akechi said pensively. “My apartment doesn’t allow pets, and that’s a conversation I’d really rather not have.”

“That’s fine,” Morgana waved it off.

“I suppose that’s the best solution,” Makoto sighed with a nod. “Come on, we should go before the Reaper shows up.”

“Good point.” Morgana transformed, and they all piled in. Akira tried to restrain himself, he  _ did _ . He still settled next to Akechi, but there were a good six inches between them and he leaned back with crossed arms.

(He was pretty sure he wasn’t fooling anyone, but they didn’t say anything. He was  _ trying _ dammit. Just because he didn’t see the problem didn’t mean he didn’t understand that there was one.)

He tuned out most of what the others were talking about as they moved on to other topics, Yusuke getting into yet another argument with Futaba about the nature of art and graphic styles. It quickly devolved into something else entirely as Ryuji and Ann got involved talking about movies and TV shows, and Akira couldn’t help but notice the gap where someone else usually eagerly participated.

Glancing over, he saw Akechi staring out the window with a distant expression.

“Not going to join in?” he asked quietly.

Akechi blinked as though startled, and shook his head. “Probably best I don’t this time.”

“You’re being unusually quiet.”

He sighed and straightened. “Considering how Marin Karin works, and that Oracle said this was a variation of it, I’m trying to avoid saying anything that could potentially trigger a reaction with it. We don’t know how this one works, and I’d rather not find out that I can influence your actions in a dangerous way. Or at all, if I’m being honest.”

… oh. Oh no, that was actually really sweet. He was actually really worried about his accidental influence on Akira, and trying to avoid it. Most people would at least poke at it to see if there was a reaction. Even his teammates would at least see if it was possible before doing everything in their power to avoid it. Akechi was just flat out trying to avoid it.

Akechi was planning to assassinate him in a mere couple of weeks, yet he was concerned about the influences of a status effect.

Akira was getting mixed signals and he had no idea how to process them.

Part of the problem was probably the status effect, admittedly. At the moment, even knowing who Akechi was and all that he’d done, Akira couldn’t really bring himself to care. He wanted to lean against him and intertwine their fingers and talk until he made him smile again- his real smile, not his TV one.

He couldn’t help the smile he sent at the detective. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

Akechi looked away quickly. “It’s hardly anything to thank me for. If anything, it should be the expectation.”

That wasn’t something he could really deny, so he hummed and leaned back.

They reached the entrance soon enough, and everyone hesitated to leave. The fact that he was worrying and inconveniencing them like this was… unpleasant. He didn’t like it, especially the way Akechi kept sending him uncertain glances.

“I could try calling for my Persona again,” he offered. “If I can reach Norn, I might be able to break through.” It was a big might, and a long shot by far, but he didn’t like how distraught they were. If he could fix it…

“Yeah, it’s worth a shot!” Futaba agreed brightly, though he could see that she believed it as much as he did.

Akira closed his eyes and reached inward. It was the same problem as earlier, but he kept pushing stubbornly this time. He thought he could catch flickers of it, just off the edge of his senses, and  _ pushed _ .

He wasn’t expecting the recoil. Wasn’t expecting the magic to snap back, blurring out his senses for a moment from the sheer strength of it. Pain exploded in his head, similar to when one of his Persona took too much damage and was forcefully dismissed. He staggered and clutched his head with a hiss.

“Joker!”

Two pairs of hands were all that kept him from falling, and he blinked his eyes open to see Ryuji and Akechi on either side of him, eyes wide with concern.

“Dude! Are you alright?”

He rubbed at his head. “I’m alright, just…” he shook his head and leaned to the side to keep from falling. “It recoiled pretty strongly.”

“Hmmmm didn’t think about that,” Futaba grumbled, tapping at Prometheus’ screens. “Probably shouldn’t do that again.”

He grimaced with agreement. His whole body felt shaky and weak, headache blooming behind his eyes that definitely wasn’t going anywhere soon. The only reason he was still standing was because of the two holding him up.

“Well… there’s nothing more we can do here, right?” Haru asked, folding her arms with a worried frown. “We just have to hope it’s dispelled when we return to the real world.”

“That’s true,” Makoto agreed grudgingly. “And if it’s not, we’ll simply have to hope it wears off soon.”

“Ailments usually don’t last more than a day or so in the real world, correct?” Akechi asked, shifting his grip on Akira to look at her.

“From what we’ve observed.” She nodded with a shift. “So it shouldn’t be too dangerous or inconvenient, but…”

“It’ll be bad if it doesn’t wear off in time for school,” Ann winced.

“Yes, that is an issue. I can probably cover for him for a day, but no more than that.”

“Well, hopefully it won’t come to that. I think that if it hasn’t worn off by tomorrow afternoon, then we can start worrying.”

She nodded to Akechi. “That’s fair. Your stop is only one ahead of mine, so,” she glanced at Akira. “I can help you get him there.”

Akira rubbed his head as they spoke, trying to focus around the ache. It had been bad enough when he was just distracted, now he could barely think at all.

Akechi was warm against him.

The world shifted slightly, and suddenly they were back in Shibuya. The sounds of people chattering as they moved past was almost overwhelming compared to the muted sounds of Mementos, and the bright lights were blinding. Akira winced as the pounding in his head redoubled.

“Akira?”

He shook his head, rubbing at it. The abrupt change in outfit meant that his hands actually made contact with skin, but it didn’t really help. Akechi’s outfit was different, but no less concealing with long sleeves and gloves, so at least Akira wasn’t  _ more _ distracted by him. “I don’t feel any different.”

He saw them grimace and Makoto nodded in resignation. “Alright,” she said, scooping Morgana up and handing him to Akira. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait for it to wear off.”

None of them were particularly happy about it, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it either. They split off, Ryuji lingering for a long moment before waving goodbye, and Akechi led the way towards his apartment. Makoto supported Akira, so it would draw less attention, but thankfully it was late enough that they found seats on the subway fairly easily. They were all quiet on their way, lost in their own thoughts.

Akira  _ knew _ this was theoretically dangerous, but they were already playing a dangerous game. Right now, they were at a stalemate as they waited for their individual plans to take effect. Neither side could make a move until the 20th. So he couldn’t really find it in him to consider this a particularly dangerous move, even if it was the status effect inhibiting him.

They ran into the problem as they reached Akechi’s apartment building.

A security guard was standing outside the gated building, and Akechi swore softly. They all glanced at him with raised brows; he rarely swore outside the Metaverse, and tried to avoid it even there.

(The more time they spent with him the more they realized that his poised act was exactly that- and that his real personality was more in line with Futaba or even  _ Ryuji _ in some ways, though his attempt at restraint was a strong reflection of Makoto as well.)

“Bushida-san is one of the stricter guards, he insists on inspections. If it were one of the others I could distract them fairly easily, but Bushida-san is professional and experienced.” He grimaced. “He’d recognize any of the tricks I could pull.”

It was quiet for a moment as they contemplated the issue. Akira glanced at Makoto and found her and Morgana exchanging looks. They didn’t like it, he knew. But they couldn’t really make a strong argument against it- not without making Akechi suspicious.

With a shrug, he pulled off his bag and offered it to Makoto. “Switch with me. I can move my clothes to your bag, but my bag has Morgana’s fur and all my tools in it.”

She hesitated for a moment but reluctantly accepted the exchange. Akechi stepped over and steadied him as he wavered on his feet, and he leaned against him gratefully as they transferred the books and clothes.

“You’re sure this is alright?” Makoto asked.

“It isn’t a problem for me,” Akechi assured her. “Although I understand everyone’s concern.”

She sighed. “Status effects are tricky sometimes. Just… keep an eye on him, I guess. Let us know if something happens or you need help, I’m close enough that I could hurry over and Haru can have some drive her if necessary.”

“Understood, I’ll contact you if any problems arise.”

Akira shrugged and sent them a smile as she and Morgana looked at him. “I’ll be fine, it’s not the worst status effect that’s lingered.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not a problem,” Morgana groaned. “Just don’t do anything reckless, alright? And actually go to bed!” He glared at Akira. “Don’t stay up all night. I mean it, though at least you don’t have school tomorrow…”

“Yes Mona,” Akira said with a straight face. “I’ll behave.”

The not-cat narrowed his eyes at him and Makoto shook her head. “You never behave… just be careful, alright?”

“Yes Makoto.”

They both glared at him at his tone before Makoto shook her head again and turned to leave. “We’ll check in occasionally. Please let us know if something happens.”

As they walked away, Akira murmured to Akechi, “Momgana and Momkoto back at it with the lectures.”

“I heard that!” Morgana shouted, and Akira smiled.

Akechi huffed out a breath. “That seems like it has downsides.”

“Morgana is bossy and will start nagging me if I’m not in bed by eleven. He starts clawing me after midnight.”

That drew a short laugh from Akechi, and it made something warm bubble in his chest at the amusement on his face. The amusement faded, though, as he glanced at Akira. The warmth faded just as fast.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “We should go, before you fall over.”

“I’m fine,” Akira said automatically, straightening. It made his head ache, but he didn’t like the concern in Akechi’s voice. Didn’t like that the other boy was obviously upset about the situation. He wanted to stay close, but he didn’t want to be a bother.

“You are very clearly not,” Akechi sighed and wrapped a hand around his arm to keep him steady as he pulled him along. Oh. Well, he certainly wouldn’t protest  _ that _ .

As they approached the gate, Akira focused on ignoring the headache and keeping steady. The guard looked over and raised a brow.

“Good evening, Akechi-san.”

“Good evening, Bushida-san. I thought Fujihara-san was working tonight?”

The man shook his head. “He came down sick with something, and called in. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I took the shift. It’s unusual for you to bring a guest.”

Akechi shrugged. “We’re studying. College entrance exams are closer than they appear, and I can’t rely on my title forever.” He flashed a smile. “Even I need to study, and working around my schedule requires some flexible timing.”

“Oh?” His gaze flickered between the two, and Akira didn’t know what to make of his quirked brow. “Well, good luck I suppose. Bag?”

Akira offered the bag to him, resting an arm on Akechi’s shoulder to hide how unsteady he was, and felt how tense Akechi was as the guard shook his head while he looked through the contents.

“You’re free to go.”

Akechi nodded to him and pulled Akira inside and to the elevators.

“You tensed up,” Akira noted as they got in the elevator.

The other boy twitched with a grimace. “He was making assumptions.”

Akira tilted his head, thinking back to the exchange. The guard had seemed skeptical, but not suspicious. “Assumptions?”

“I never bring guests over, and I generally avoid casual contact with people,” Akechi crossed his arms, and Akira noted a flush on his cheeks and ears. “You were both, so he was making assumptions.”

… ah. “Well, he didn’t say anything.”

“He wouldn’t. It’s not his business and he knows it. It’s still embarrassing.”

A knot formed in his chest, just below his throat. He swallowed. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

“It’s- fine.” Akechi muttered. “It’s hardly your fault, and it isn’t a  _ problem _ . I’m just not used to people making those assumptions.”

That didn’t exactly make him feel better when Akechi was still obviously uncomfortable about it. He stayed quiet, leaning against the wall and sliding his hands into his pockets. The elevator dinged open, and he followed after Akechi down the hallway. He tried to keep a bit of distance, but Akechi closed it as his headache spiked and he wavered.

“Come on, let’s get inside before you fall over.”

Akira allowed himself to be pulled along, idly noting the pale walls and floor. The whole place was clean and had a minimalistic modern air- almost sterile.

It was a stark contrast to Leblanc’s warm atmosphere, and Akira suddenly saw why Akechi spent so much time there. Akechi stopped at a door and slid a keycard through the lock, opening it and revealing an apartment that matched the rest of the building. Akira slowly stepped inside and looked around, only becoming more convinced of his realization.

The interior was as cold and impersonal as the rest of the building. Pale walls, carpet, and tile, a couch and table across from a TV, an open kitchen to the right that looked nearly spotless. A door to the left that looked to lead into a bedroom. It was decently sized, but the only sign that it was lived in were the books on the shelves against the wall and the files on the coffee table.

It was cold and empty and sad, and Akira hated it.

Judging by Akechi’s wry smile as he gestured to the room, he did too. “Welcome to my apartment. It exists purely as a place to sleep and shower, because I’m never here otherwise.”

“Busy, or because it’s almost as sterile as a hospital?” Akira asked, eying the kitchen. It was  _ too _ clean. A kitchen should never look nigh untouched like that.

Akechi snorted, and for the first time since they’d stepped foot in the building a hint of warmth crept into his expression. “Both. Although I honestly don’t know how you  _ live _ in that dusty attic. Leblanc is nice downstairs, but the attic…”

Akira shrugged with a smile. “Because I cleaned it, so comparatively I barely notice it. You should have seen it when I first got there.” That had been an unpleasant shock, on top of literally everything else.

“Huh… I wouldn’t have taken Sakura-san for the type.”

“He’s not, really.” Akira tried to figure out how to explain. “I know he was worried about Futaba and how me being in close proximity to her might be trouble, but I’m pretty sure the whole thing is more complicated than that. I’m still not even sure why he took me in.” He moved over to the shelves to examine the books. “He grumbled about how it just happened and blustered about money and then changed the subject, so I still haven’t gotten an answer. Other than that he’s just softer than he pretends to be.”

“I can believe that,” Akechi mused. “He certainly has a gruff exterior, but he took in both you and Futaba-san, and has defended you staunchly.”

“Yeah,” Akira huffed out a laugh. “Even if he spent the first month or so threatening to kick me out if I caused trouble.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he grinned in amusement. “At the time I was firmly convinced that he hated me, but now I know he was just blustering to keep me out of trouble.” The hostility of it had meant that he spent the first couple of days on the edge of a panic attack, though, and he’d been walking on eggshells for the first couple of months out of fear. Morgana had given him the first hint that Sojiro wasn’t as tough as he pretended to be, but it had taken a few of months, and Futaba, for him to really break through the shell. Now he knew Sojiro was firmly on their side, and it was… nice.

A glance around Akechi’s apartment made the warmth fade, and he turned back to see the boy looking distantly at the table. Guilt stabbed sharp in his chest and he moved to press their shoulders together.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Akechi huffed out a frustrated breath and pulled away with a shake of his head. “There’s no reason to apologize. I asked,” he said as he pulled his coat off and hung it from the hanger, setting his shoes by the door. Akira quietly followed suit. “I saw that look you gave the kitchen.”

It was an obvious subject change, and Akira took it gratefully. “It’s too clean. It looks like something out of a model magazine.”

“I usually go to a restaurant or get takeout,” Akechi said as he wandered over to the couch. Akira followed. “I don’t have time or energy to cook myself, usually.”

“Can you cook?”

“I can follow a recipe, but not much else, no,” he admitted. “I’ve never had the opportunity or time to learn.”

Akira perked up. “I can teach you. Or the basics, at least.”

The smile was back, small and genuine. “While the idea is appealing, I don’t have any ingredients, and we have other priorities right now.”

“Fair enough,” Akira leaned back. “Later then, after we finish things and have the free time.” The words were out before he could think them through, and he knew they were the wrong thing to say as soon as he said them.

Akechi’s smile turned bitter for a moment before it shifted into one too similar to the one he gave the public. “I’d like that,” he said pleasantly, and it felt like a stab in the chest.

Akira’s gaze fell to his lap as tears burned in the back of his throat. It seemed like he just kept upsetting Akechi, and he knw why because that had been a very  _ stupid _ comment to make when he knew the situation. Akechi didn’t know that he knew, but it didn’t change the situation.

He felt a heavy gaze on him, and glanced up to see Akechi watching him like he was a particularly complex puzzle. He tilted his head.

“I wouldn’t expect you to look upset when I accepted your offer,” he said to the unspoken question.

Akira frowned. “I can tell the difference between a real and a fake smile, Akechi. You may have accepted the offer on the surface, but I obviously upset you.”

His lips part in surprise, eyes wide. “I’m… not sure-” he faltered, looking bewildered.

“Is it really so surprising that I can read you?”

“I… generally try to keep my thoughts from my expression,” Akechi said slowly. “Most of the time it works, so I’m not used to people being able to read me.”

That was fair. “I’ve been curious since the TV station,” Akira admitted. “So I’ve been paying attention. Your visits to Leblanc helped, but it wasn’t until you joined the Thieves and started dropping your walls a bit that I really started to understand.” He shrugged with a small smile. “I like the real you a lot better.”

Akechi was staring at him, wide-eyed.

“What?”

“I- You-” Akechi broke off, looking overwhelmed. “No one’s… ever said anything like that before. I… find it a bit hard to believe.” He looked away, swallowing.

Akira stared at him, watched the way his hands clenched and his mouth turned down. He looked uncertain, confused, and so… sad. Like he genuinely couldn’t believe that someone might like him behind the fake public mask. He couldn’t resist the strong urge that welled in his chest at the thought.

He leaned over and touched Akechi’s face, pulling his chin towards him and kissing him.

Akechi tensed beneath his hands, and Akira thought for a moment he was going to be shoved off the couch. But Akechi just clenched his hands in Akira’s shirt and allowed it. He shifted forward to straddle him so he could reach without straining, and appreciated the warmth.

When he pulled back for air, he saw Akechi’s lost look. Like he didn’t understand, or couldn’t believe it. “It’s not- you-” he broke off, shaking his head.

“It’s not me?” Akira couldn’t help but tease, but it was once again the wrong thing to say, because an almost shattered look appeared in Akechi’s eyes.

“No,” he said quietly, hands loosening. “It’s  _ not _ you. Not like this.”

It took a moment for Akira to understand that, but he tightened his grip when he did. “It’s not the status effect,” he said.

“Really?” Akechi’s smile was bitter, mocking. “So you would say and do these things without it?”

He opened his mouth to say  _ yes, I would _ ; but paused. Because he was aware that this was stupid and reckless with the situation at hand. He just didn’t care at the moment. He usually did, though, and he knew he did, even if he didn’t right now. So instead he said, “No, I wouldn’t. Because of how complicated and dangerous the situation is, I’d keep it to myself. But I don’t really give a damn right now, so I’ll say it rather than just thinking it no matter how suicidally reckless it might be. Because I hate that look on your face, like you’re all alone and no one cares. Because you don’t have to be, and I do care dammit. Even if it gets me killed, I don’t- I don’t want to see you like that.”

He was aware that he’d probably just said way too much, something that was acceded by the look on Akechi’s face, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret or cover for it. It was the truth.

“You-” Akechi was thunderstruck, almost horrified. “You  _ knew _ . You’ve known the whole time.”

“Not the whole time,” he said quietly. “We suspected there was more going on, and we couldn’t take anything at face value after Okumura, so we did some digging. We only knew for sure around two weeks ago, after…” He found his throat closing and his gaze fell as he remembered the call. He forced himself to finish, his voice thick. “After we heard the plan during that call.” His hands clenched in Akechi’s shirt, and he felt himself trembling. The thought of hearing those words in his voice- it  _ hurt _ , something visceral being carved out of his chest.

“Why-?” Akechi was staring at him with undisguised horror, something heartbroken in his expression, with a thread of anger. “Why didn’t you do anything then? Why haven’t you done anything? Why have you just- left it be?!”

“What could we do?” Akira asked quietly. “You backed us into a corner, Akechi, wasn’t that the point? That we couldn’t do anything against you? And even knowing who you are- that just makes it  _ more _ impossible, because you have a goddamn government conspiracy behind you. We can’t do anything about it until we know more, and how are we supposed to find out more?”

His expression twisted in something angry and he lunged forward with a snarl. Suddenly Akira was gasping on the floor, Akechi above him with his hands fisted in his shirt. “So you’re just going to let me kill you?!” he spat, fury lacing his voice. “You can’t do anything, so that’s it? You give up and die?!”

“Did I say that?” Akira asked breathlessly. For- multiple reasons. He probably shouldn’t find Akechi’s genuine anger as appealing as he did. Especially when it could potentially get him killed. “I said we can’t do anything against you, so we haven’t. I didn’t say we were giving up.”

Akechi stilled, staring down at him with a mix of incredulousness and anger. “How exactly do you expect to get out of it, then?”

“Do you really want to know?” he challenged. “Because for some reason I don’t think you want me dead.”

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment, and he could see the conflict in Akechi’s eyes. The warring desires. He didn’t want Akira dead, but he obviously had another goal that he  _ did _ want, and it was reliant upon this.

He closed his eyes, breath leaving him in something that was almost a sob as his head dropped and his eyes closed. “ _ Dammit _ Akira,” he hissed, and something painful jumped in Akira’s chest as he saw tears leaking from beneath his eyelids. “ _ Why _ did you all have to make this so hard? I wasn’t supposed to get attached. This was supposed to be  _ simple _ . I’m  _ so close _ to ruining him-!”

And there it was. The higher goal. Akira reached up, pulling him into a hug as he sobbed. Tears pricked at his own eyes at his obvious pain, and he carded his hand through his hair.

He didn’t track how long they lay there before Akechi calmed down, but it was long enough for his back and arms to start aching. Eventually, Akechi pulled away and wiped his eyes.

“You are _utterly_ _infuriating_ , Kurusu.”

“Good, I’m doing something right.” He shouldn’t. It was a terrible idea, that would probably get him punched at the least. He wanted to, though, so he did anyway. He reached up and pulled Akechi back down for another kiss.

He didn’t get punched but Akechi did bite his lip, which he should probably mind more than he did.

Somehow they ended up back on the couch, with Akechi actually talking about his past for once, and it was- a lot. It hurt to listen to, and he didn’t know which he hated more, Akechi’s sad expression or his empty one. He just curled up closer to him to try to pull him back.

Akechi didn’t ask what their plan was again, and he didn’t refuse Akira’s offer of help.

They both knew it wouldn’t be that simple, but the Phantom Thieves were known miracle workers.

They’d figure this out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE.
> 
> A day late, the opposite whumpee, and 3k words longer than I expected, here it is. I’m ridiculously proud of it, though.
> 
> Not shown: Akira wakes up the next day minus one status effect, plus one brain cell, and basically has a panic attack and panic-texts his team saying he might have fucked up or he might have made things a hundred times easier. Communication happens and it basically culminates in Akechi not dying. And good ending things.


	8. Day 8 - Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira stepped into the police station for the second time knowing it was the right thing to do- but being cut off from his friends and confidants was still a pain worse than he had expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Referenced November 20th Interrogation, Panic attack, Referenced depression and disassociation

Akira knew Sae was right.

His team would be safer, so much safer, if he turned himself in. Gave the police a scapegoat to satisfy them on at least a base level.

That didn’t make walking into the police station any less terrifying, even with Sae in front of the desk waiting for him. He knew he was tense as officers walked past, many of them with handcuffs and batons. He fought to keep his face blank, to hide his sheer terror as the officers came to collect him. Sae’s presence was a minor relief, in the face of the handcuffs he couldn’t help but flinch away from.

(There were still scars on his wrists that would probably never quite heal.)

They didn’t use them, though. He didn’t know if it was Sae’s intervention that they weren’t necessary, or whatever it was they saw on his face that made them exchange concerned glances, but his hands remained unrestrained as they escorted him to another interrogation room.

This one was different, a few floors up with an actual window.

Granted it was still barred, but it was an improvement, and  _ didn’t _ send him into the reflexive panic attack he’d been worried about. That was a plus.

The interrogation, and the interrogators, was different too. Sae was there mediating, and there were two men actually interrogating him. There was another man in the back, leaning against the wall, but he didn’t say much. Listening and collecting information for a potential court case, he supposed. It also remained fairly calm, probably because he was actually answering the questions rather than refusing to say anything at all.

They still had Sae’s notes from the last interrogation, so they focused on asking him what had happened since then. Sae had mentioned before the interrogation began that Shido had already talked about the Metaverse, and that it was now on record; even if people had trouble believing it.

So he told the truth. He avoided talking about his team, but he talked about Akechi, about the Palace, and about Shido. He didn’t talk about Mementos; didn’t mention Yaldabaoth, or the Velvet Room, or Satanael, or Morgana. Some things were just too much, and others too personal. He just said that the Phantom Thieves lost the ability to go to the Metaverse after Shido’s Palace collapsed. That it seemed to simply disappear, but he didn’t know if it had something to do with Shido’s research.

They seemed to accept that, even if they weren’t particularly happy with it.

Then the questioning shifted focus, turning to the previous interrogation.

He hadn’t expected it and stiffened as the first question was fielded, about the identities of the men who had questioned him formerly. Sae looked mildly startled too, but nodded to him.

He shifted, folding his hands together to hide their shaking, and noticed the man in the back focus on his exposed wrists. His gaze traced the scars darkly, steel grey darkening as his jaw tightened. Akira thought for a brief moment he felt the tingle of electricity- but it was gone before he could be sure, and he brushed it off as nerves.

He spoke slowly, first of the arrest and initial procedure, and then of how he’d been taken to the underground interrogation room. His voice remained flat, toneless, as he spoke of the dark haired man with the blank eyes who’d taken so much glee into trying to force him to talk. Of the officers who took over when he left, of the syringes, and the water, and the confession.

They looked sick; Sae had seen first hand the results and she had a tight expression on her face. The silver haired man in the back had a completely blank expression, but Akira could see the fury in the tense lines of his posture.

“They would have deleted the camera’s recording,” the one of the men muttered angrily. “So there’s no way it will hold up in court.”

Akira swallowed. “And if there was video evidence available?” Was that- was it possible? Could they possibly hold those men responsible? He’d brought the flashdrive just in case, but was it an actual possibility?

They focused their attention on him.

“If we could get that video and confirm it, then we could hold those responsible for several different charges.”

He’d hoped, but hadn’t expected-

Reaching into his pocket, Akira pulled out the flashdrive Futaba had prepared and set it on the table in front of them. “It still has the timestamps and camera information attached,” he said. “We knew they would try to erase any evidence, so we recorded it directly from the camera.” He’d told Futaba not to watch it, not that she had listened.

He hoped she was doing alright. She’d been hysterical when he said he was coming, and the rest of his team weren’t much better. Boss hadn’t been happy either, but he’d at least acknowledged the necessity. They’d calmed down as the night went on, and waking up in a warm tangle of his team had been the most reassuring thing to happen today.

It had been a nice goodbye to the people he probably wouldn’t see for at least a few years.

Which was a  _ bad _ thought to have in the middle of an interrogation, because he suddenly felt like crying and he was  _ not _ going to do that. It had taken three broken ribs and a syringe of truth serum to bring him to that point last time, he wasn’t going to do it over goddamn  _ flashdrive _ this time.

He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair to compose himself. “Will that work?”

The men exchanged a glance. “We’ll have to confirm it, but if it’s a match-”

“Yes,” the other man said firmly. “This will be a solid foot in the door of forcing them to take responsibility.”

“ _ One must take full responsibility for their own actions _ ,” he murmured under his breath. He blinked and shook his head at their questioning looks, running his hand through his hair again. “It’s- nothing. Just… something he said about the confession.”

“Tch,” Sae scowled. “Well, if all goes well he’ll do exactly that.” She picked up the flashdrive, tucking it into her folder and checking her watch. “We’re running low on time. I have everything I need, do you have any more questions?”

The interrogators shook their heads and gathered their things, discussing information and variables of the law as they left. The silver haired man watched them leave, then, with a long glance at Akira, pushed away from the wall and followed.

Sae sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “So much to do.” She looked up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Terrified out of his mind, trying not to jump at shadows. But this time hadn’t been like last time, so he was warily hopeful. Not that it made it any easier, because he was completely cut off from his friends as of now; it would be months or years, if  _ ever _ , before he would see them again. And even Sae had other things to do. Now that the interrogation was over, she couldn’t keep hovering around protecting him. He was about to be completely alone among-

A hand rested firmly on his shoulder, and he looked up (when had his gaze fallen?) to see her leaning down to meet his eyes. “Kurusu. Breathe.”

He exhaled sharply as he realized he’d been holding his breath. He closed his eyes and pulled another breath in. Out. In. Out. He was shaking, he noted absently. He swallowed, blinking rapidly as his eyes  _ burned _ and-

Akira covered his face with his hands, trying to fight back tears. “This is stupid,” he whispered. “I said I would do this. I made the decision. I should be prepared for this.”

Her hand tightened. “What you’ve been through is terrible and unfair, and to expect you to  _ prepare _ for something like that to happen again would be beyond cruel. I will not allow it to happen again, Kurusu.”

“You have things to do and a case to prepare for. You can’t stand around watching me forever. It’s- it’s stupid to expect the same thing to happen again. I should be fine.”

She sighed. “That’s not how trauma works, Kurusu. It’s completely understandable for you to be frightened. You’ve been twice exposed to the corruption of the justice system, that kind of thing doesn’t go away.” Her gaze hardened. “And yes, I have a case to prepare so I can’t stay forever. But I am the prosecutor with the highest record in the SIU,  _ and _ the daughter of a highly respected former police commissioner. I have connections, and I promise that  _ it will not happen again _ . You will not be harmed.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then slowly nodded. “Alright. I… leave it to you.”

Sae smiled tightly and straightened with a glance at her phone. “Speaking of…” she sighed. “They’re ready in containment. Come on.”

Akira swallowed as the ice resettled down his spine and nodded. He stood up and followed.

The following events passed in a haze of fear and expectation of something that never came, of pitying looks and suspicious glares and whispers, of stern officers that never touched him despite his fears, until he was guided to a cell and told he would stay there.

He fell back on the cot and shook silently. Sae had been good to her word, no one had harmed him. They had barely even touched him aside from an occasional tap on the shoulder to guide him. It was a relief, and he found himself crashing down after spending so much time tense.

The room was silent, just stone and metal bars. There was a window to outside near the roof of the cell, letting in sunlight. He hadn’t expected that, had half expected a cell identical to his Velvet Room one.

He closed his eyes and sighed. This was where he would be for… however long he was here. Even once Shido was tried and convicted, which he  _ would be _ , because he trusted Sae and believed she could do it (had to believe; or this was all for nothing), Akira was, in fact, guilty of being the Phantom Thieves’ leader. He… wasn’t getting out so easily.

It was fine. As long as the others were safe.

He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep and dreamed of a man with a long nose, a girl with long blond hair, and a butterfly.

The next month and a half passed, somehow both racing and dragging by. Being in solitary meant minimal interaction with other people, aside from the guards and the prosecutors and lawyers that came to collect testimonies and information about Shido and his conspiracy.

It was easy to lose track of time, with nothing but a sliver of sunlight to track its passing. He spent a lot of time reflecting over the past year, replaying moments over in his head. Meetings, arguments, laughter, technically dates but not really because none of them had talked about it, moments of weakness, moments of strength. The battles they had fought, both in the Metaverse and outside of it. Victories.

Failures.

Sae’s influence meant that none of the guards tried to hurt him, and apparently  _ Iwai’s _ kept any of the prisoners from bothering him, so it was peaceful. Kind of boring, really, except that the scars on his wrists kept him too relieved about it to be bothered.

Sae came by occasionally to keep him updated, which was nice.

His Persona were still in his mind, even if he couldn’t manifest them, and when the silence became too much, the ache and cold of loneliness, he sank back into his mind and allowed himself to drift from Persona to Persona. Not so much talking to them, as simply acknowledging their presence. The touch and aura of each Arcana reminding him of the bonds he’d made. Most of the time, it made him feel better.

Other times, it just made the ache worse. Made him feel the surrounding emptiness that much more acutely.

He drifted in and out of awareness, feeling less and less connected to reality as time passed until-

Sae was smiling. The guard was handing him his bag and making a shooing motion. He was stepping out of the compound, still half expecting someone to shout for him to stop, that it had been a mistake, but-

Sojiro pulled up the car and told him to get in, and it took every ounce of his will not to start crying. His smile was probably a little watery, though, because Sojiro grumbled at him and looked away to wipe his own eyes.

Everyone else was waiting back at the cafe, even-

He could barely breathe through the tangle of limbs as everyone hugged him, and normally he would have expected Morgana to complain, but he was purring up a storm against Akira’s chest as everyone reached out to him, and suddenly Akira was crying in earnest. He wasn’t the only one, even Yusuke was wiping his eyes, and everyone else was various shades of sobbing and laughing, so he couldn’t feel self conscious about it.

He spent the whole party pressed up against one person or another, always in contact with someone in some way. It was loud and cheerful, especially once his other confidants began trickling in and welcoming him back or shouting at each other. For the first time in a month and a half, he was warm.

He woke up the next morning trapped in the tangle of limbs that was a typical Phantom Thieves sleepover, and knew that there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be.


	9. Day 9 - Ritual Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is over and done, Yaldabaoth is gone and his Velvet Room is freed- but that doesn't mean there aren't scars. And who better to understand what happened in his Velvet Room than those who have their own?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of like PQ2, except post-P5 for all games. Don’t ask how Hamuko and Minato there.
> 
> I’m really torn on her name too. On one hand, I like how Minako sounds more. On the other, Minato and Minako sound very similar and I want her to have her own identity aside from just “Fem!Minato”, because she’s really not him, even if they are technically the same person. So I’m somewhat tentatively using Hamuko.
> 
> Also I live for the wildcards being close friends and supporting each other endlessly.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Referenced gaslighting because Yaldabaoth, Existential questions about soul executions, Referenced non-consensual Persona Fusion, Breakdown, Referenced death/near-death experiences (two groups got dusted by their respective god enemies, after all)

The four wildcards sat in comfortable silence under the trees on the rise, watching their teams interact with much shouting and laughter in and along the water.

Strange as this place was, they all needed the break. And the beach seemed like the perfect spot for it, so long as no Shadows showed up. It had been a fantastic idea, so far.

It was nice to see all the teams getting along, in their own ways. Yusuke had been switching between running around frantically with a sketchbook and trying to cajole people into letting him sketch them, while Futaba had laughed at him from under the umbrella with Fuuka, Naoto, and Kanji. Akechi had been with them for a while, presumably talking about sci-fi shows, but he’d been lured away by a water gun to the face courtesy of Ryuji, Haru, and Makoto, and was now having a showdown with them, Junpei, Akihiko, Ken, Aigis, Chie, and Yosuke. Rise, Yukari, and Ann were actually in the water, the former two avoiding the fight and the latter wanting to talk to them. Teddie was Yusuke’s current model, posing happily. Mitsuru, Morgana, and Yukiko were under another umbrella, watching the fight and calling out criticism of technique.

Akira had thought about joining in, but he was content to watch for the moment. Basking in his team’s joy.

The others clearly felt the same way, sitting next to him with small, content smiles. Hamuko’s was a bit melancholic as her gaze followed the alternate versions of her teammates, but pressing shoulder-to-shoulder with Minato she still seemed happy. Yu’s usual stoic expression was broken by a tiny quirk to his lips as he watched the water fight, but he seemed as satisfied as Akira to simply watch the battle.

A shriek rose from the center group as Yosuke suddenly spun and shot Chie in the face.

“That’s cheating you jerk! Turncoat!”

“All’s fair in love and war!” He shouted back, diving behind Junpei as she yelled again.

Akira chuckled. “ _ Let the days of war and love commence… _ ” he murmured.

“ _ I am Eligor. I shall become your power. _ ” Yu responded without missing a beat, and Akira laughed again.

“It was always interesting to see what their introductions were.” Hamuko smiled with a sly glance at Akira. “ _ Nice to me-heet you, ho. _ ”

“ _ Me eat you whole, _ ” he shot back with a grin, glancing at Yu.

“ _ I am in your care. _ ” His small smile widened as he glanced to the left.

“ _ I don’t care _ ,” Minato finished blandly, though amusement danced in his eyes.

Hamuko burst into giggles, leaning against Minato and giving the others a bright-eyed look. “It was always so cool to see new Persona! I was always sad to say goodbye to the ones Igor fused, though. Even though they weren’t necessarily  _ gone _ , so to speak…”

Akira suddenly felt cold, amusement vanishing.

“Yeah,” Yu nodded. “I felt a little guilty. Like I was saying that they weren’t enough. Even though they were just combining together into something more, rather than actually losing anything. That’s how Margaret described it, at least.”

She nodded. “Right! They just… fused together, but they kept all the memories and feelings up to that point! That’s why they were willing to help us immediately. But… yeah, I felt a little bad, even though they understood and wanted to help.”

Akira forced himself to unclench his jaw, his hands tangling in his pants. He could still remember Yaldabaoth’s grating voice talking about execution, still hear Caroline’s mocking voice and Justine’s cool reprimands at any hesitation, still feel the cold blade slicing through his soul in the back of his mind. It was different for them, he was pretty sure. They’d mentioned cards, and that description was definitely different than anything he’d experienced.

“Akira?”

He glanced up to see them watching him with concern.

“Are you alright?” Minato asked, eyes narrowed in a way that said he’d noticed and was concerned about Akira’s reaction.

Then again, all four of them were like that. So used to supporting their teams that they did it to each other too without even thinking about it. More, really.

They were the same, after all.

“You have a sad look on your face,” Hamuko murmured, leaning forward to set her elbows on her knees. “What’s wrong?”

A sad look…? Maybe. He doubted anyone else would have been able to tell, though. “It’s… hard to put into words.” He hadn’t told anyone. Hadn’t brought it up, because what was done was done and couldn’t be undone, so it would just feel like whining at this point. He knew Morgana was aware of the lingering feelings towards the situation, and Lavenza likely did as well, but he didn’t want to make them feel  _ more _ guilty than they already did. He didn’t… really want, or know how, to talk about it. “I felt the same way, though. Guilty at- telling them they weren’t enough. Forcing them to change just because I needed something better.” At literally shattering and forcefully reforging pieces of his own soul, executing them to create something else. “They understood, even if they didn’t always like it, but…”

“Yeah,” Yu leaned back. “Though I’m fairly sure something like that can be said of our interactions with our social links, too, and how we interact with people in general. But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

All three of them winced at that, smiling wryly. “Really senpai, just gonna call us all out like that?” Akira teased, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Psychoanalysis and abandonment issues aside…” he faltered, swallowing. “You… know about Yaldabaoth already. About how he infiltrated the Velvet Room to interfere.”

“Right,” Hamuko looked worried. “You guys explained that. Did he do something with the fusion?”

Akira couldn’t look at them, staring at the ground as he pulled a knee to his chest to lean against. His Persona stirred uneasily in his mind, unhappy at the reminder. Afraid and angry, even knowing it was over. He couldn’t… just forget it. Any more than he could the rest of it.

“Akira?” Minato shifted, leaning around Hamuko.

Akira swallowed back bile, tightening his arms around his knee. He didn’t want to say it, to make those memories physical, to open himself up like that. But… who else could he tell, who would understand? Would really, truly understand the tolls of multiple Persona?

“Fusion wasn’t explained to me like that.”

His voice was tight, almost wavering. They looked concerned, but didn’t interrupt.

“The way it was explained to me was that Persona were personalities that were contained within my mind.” He closed his eyes. “ _ Persona are personalities that exist within you, and by discarding old personalities, your Persona will be reborn anew. _ ” Repeating the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, because the situation in which they had been spoken… “It wasn’t explained in a positive light. “ _ By discarding your old identity you give way to a new one in a process of execution _ ” is what Ig-  _ Yaldabaoth _ told me.”

“Execution?” Hamuko asked quietly.

“You said Igor was the one to perform the fusion for you,” Akira said, staring hard at the ground in front of him. He didn’t want to see the looks on their faces, shame and disgust at the memories curling in his stomach. “I don’t know if that means that he’s the only one who can do it like that, or if Yaldabaoth was trying to push a point or-” his voice faltered, something he’d never spoken aloud, but had wondered plenty. “-or if it was a product of it being my Velvet Room. It’s supposed to reflect the heart of the guest, right?”

“Supposedly,” Minato agreed slowly. “Mine- ours, I guess,” Akira saw him glance at Hamuko, and she nodded with the same edge of uncertainty they always got at the reminder, “-is an elevator.”

“Mine is a limo,” Yu murmured.

Akira snorted. “Smooth, senpai.”

Yu shook his head. “ _ I _ don’t get to choose it. Yours was…”

“A…” Akira grimaced. “A cell. Similar to a panopticon but smaller, a ring of cells facing inward. Igor- or- Yaldabaoth, was in the center, and the twins acted as wardens.”

“Subtle symbolism,” Minato deadpanned.

“ _ I _ don’t get to choose it,” Akira repeated, and Yu rolled his eyes at his tone. “But… that symbolism carried over to everything. Fusion included.” He tightened his grip on his pants. “In order to fuse two Persona… they were literally executed. There were…” He swallowed trying to ground himself. “There were guillotines. The Persona were executed, and then fused in the process.” He could feel himself shaking; his eyes burned.

Arms wrapped around him and he jumped, glancing up at Hamuko as she sat next to him. She was giving him a sad look that made his chest hurt. He let out a quiet, shuddering breath and leaned against her.

“I hated it, but I didn’t- I didn’t have a choice. My team needed me, and I was the only one who could, and I hadn’t done it he might have-” Akira’s voice broke. He couldn’t finish. Even just the  _ thought- _

Hamuko’s grip tightened around him, but it was Yu who spoke.

“He… forced you?”

Akira swallowed again, nausea curling in his stomach at the memory. “I didn’t know about it at first. I collected Persona during Kamoshida’s Palace and registered them in the compendium, but it wasn’t until the end that…” he trailed off shaking his head. Refocusing. “We fought Kamoshida and I- I went down. I was pulled to the Velvet Room, and Igor- Yaldabaoth- he… demonstrated… how the fusion worked without bothering to explain or ask first.” He remembered his terrified horror as his Persona were torn from his soul and he could only watch, remembered Arsene’s words of resigned defiance. “He- He summoned Arsene and Pixe. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything, because the cell was closed and I didn’t get the key until after everything was over, and Lavenza and Igor came back. I just- I could only watch as they were executed, fused together to make Sandalphon. And he wasn’t- bad. Sandalphon was strong, and he was always eager to help but-”

“But it didn’t quite feel right,” Yu said quietly.

He felt Hamuko nod. “Something felt slightly off, like there was something missing.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Hamuko shuddered. “He- fused-” Her voice failed.

“He fused your  _ base Persona _ without your permission?” Minato asked, voice quiet.

Akira swallowed with a shaky nod. “I didn’t know what was going to happen until it did and… It hurt. It hurt every single time those blades fell, and we all hated it, but what were we supposed to do? At least if we made the choice it  _ was _ our choice.” And Arsene had come back, was a comforting presence in the back of his mind right now, but the loss had chafed and ached until he had.

He didn’t realize he was crying until Hamuko brushed a hand across his cheek and Yu moved over to lean against his shoulder, Minato settling against his back comfortingly. His shoulders hitched and he brought a hand to his face, trying to fight back the sobs he could feel coming on.

“Don’t,” Yu said quietly, squeezing his shoulder.

Akira heard what he was actually saying.  _ Don’t hide _ .

“We’re here for you,” Hamuko said quietly, pressing her head to his. “You can lean on us too, you know.”

Minato didn’t say anything, but it was clear from the way he leaned against Akira’s back that he felt the same way.

Akira broke.

He pressed his forehead to his knee and allowed his shoulders to shake and tears to fall, in a way he’d been fighting back all year. It burned and hurt and ached in his chest and head, emotions he’d pushed back for so long overwhelming in the face of a lack of restraint. The other three were warm around him, a grounding comfort.

He had no way of knowing how long he sat there and cried, but it was long enough for someone else to notice. As he sniffed and wiped at his eyes a warm, furry weight settled against his chest. Akira huffed out a small breath and ran a hand through Morgana’s fur.

“You alright?” his Attendant asked.

“Yeah, just destressing. It’s fine.”

“Having a breakdown,” Minato corrected, deadpan.

“Best kind of destresser there is!” Hamuko chirped, and Minato and Akira both laughed, watery though Akira’s was.

Yu shook his head. “I feel like I should contradict you and cite mental health, but I’m not actually sure how.”

“No no, she’s right,” Akira said with a weak grin as he held Morgana close. “That was very cathartic.”

Morgana sighed and bumped Akira’s chin with his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I told you both already, I don’t blame either you or Lavenza. You got as screwed over as I did, between lost memories and her being literally torn in half.”

“Still,” Morgana sighed again. “As your Attendants we were supposed to be unwavering supporters. We failed pretty spectacularly at that.”

“Unwavering?” Minato muttered.

Yu tilted his head. “Margaret calls me out on my idiocy fairly often.”

“Theo pretty much admitted that he was trying to keep his distance because he didn’t want to get attached…” Hamuko mused.

“But they didn’t ever undermine your efforts,” Morgana pointed out.

“You guys didn’t either,” Akira said, a bit exasperated.

Morgana flicked his ears at him. “Maybe not undermine, exactly but Lavenza told me how the twins treated you.”

Akira shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. Caroline never actually made good on her threats to beat me to death with her baton for back-talking, and Justine actually was supportive, so long as I wasn’t being a little shit to her.”

“Margaret challenged me to a fight once and utterly destroyed me. Multiple times.” Yu mused nostalgically.

Minato and Hamuko nodded. Akira huffed out a laugh. “Would their half-hearted attempt at executing me count?”

“Wait what?”

Akira’s smile faded, and he slowly recounted the first battle against the Holy Grail, and then the following events of the Velvet Room.

“Well that’s an unpleasant reminder of our own fight,” Yu grimaced. At Akira’s questioning look, he elaborated. “One of Izanami’s final attacks was an attempt to wipe us from existence. My… teammates took the hit for me. Multiple times. Six years later and I  _ still _ have nightmares about it.”

Akira cringed, and the other two winced.

“That would be horrifying,” Hamuko shuddered. “Shinji and Ryoji were absolutely awful, I can’t even imagine  _ everyone _ .”

“Absolutely not,” Minato draped across the three of them, basking in the contact.

Akira relaxed against them, contemplating the idea. They’d all taken hits for each other, the others had gone down for him before, but one after the other like that-

“I genuinely don’t know which one is worse,” he muttered, fully slumping back against them.

“Both,” Hamuko said decisively. “Both are worse.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Fair.”

They fell silent and returned to watching their teams playing. Even from here, he could hear the laughter and shouts, and it allowed the warmth of the others to seep into his body as Morgana curled up in his lap.

“We made it, though,” he murmured as he watched Ann join the fight by bodily launching herself onto Goro and Ryuji as they both shouted protests. “We beat the odds. We beat the  _ gods _ .”

The others laughed softly, Minato setting his chin on Akira’s shoulder as Yu finally gave in and fully slumped against them. Hamuko dropped her head against Minato’s and smiled wistfully.

“Even the ones we lost never really leave us,” she said softly, touching her chest. “The memories alone will carry us all on together, until we meet again on the other side.”

“Eventually,” Minato agreed. “Not for a while, though. Shinji won’t forgive us if we don’t make him wait.”

“True,” she sounded wistful, but she had a smile on her face. Akira reached over and squeezed her hand anyway.

They lay like that, watching and listening, and somewhere along the line fell asleep.

Akira woke to giggling and the sound of a phone camera snapping as warmth surrounded him. He peeked an eye open to find their teams watching their nap pile, looking to be debating whether to wake them up.

“Don’t you dare tell them,” Minato mumbled in his ear, mouth hidden by his shoulder. “We deserve our nap dammit, and I don’t feel like getting up.”

Well he couldn’t deny that.

He closed his eye and let the conversation lull him back into a happy doze.


	10. Day 10 - Blood Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 4th was a rude awakening for all of them- and Minato found himself backsliding in the face of nearly losing a team member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhhhhhh Minato was way too easy to write. Everyone else was... less so, but I have the weakest grasp on the P3 cast anyway. I love them though, and they're all trying.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Graphic descriptions of depression and disassociation, Near-death experience, Implied/Referenced suicidal ideation/thoughts, Emotional shutdown

Minato felt numb.

It wasn’t anything new, but he’d been getting better. Except that this had him right back into that numb carelessness that SEES had been slowly dragging him out of.

Shinji wasn’t dead.

He kept reminding himself of that fact, but it wasn’t helping. All he could see in his mind’s eye were Ken and Shinji on the ground, blood pooling around them and a gun in the Strega leader’s hand. Ken shouting and apologizing and begging as Yukari held him back. Yanking out revival and healing items and then his Evoker and pulling the trigger again and again and again and again until the bullets came out and Shinji kept breathing. Junpei and Yukari grabbing onto him as his legs gave out, their faces white. Being covered in blood along with Akihiko. Rushing back to the dorms before the Dark Hour ended and people saw them, and so they could monitor Shinji. Ken collapsing, going into shock outside of the infirmary, and the others trying to comfort him. Drifting away from everyone, up the stairs, down hallways, just… wandering.

The cold emptiness cradled him, shielding him from the overwhelming emotions like a dampening blanket. He paused as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the windows, moonlight highlighting the drying blood against his skin. On his shirt.

_ Moonlight and fire glinting off the metal, blood glistening as it seeped out of the broken bodies, into the torn cloth- _

He reached up and brushed a hand along his stained cheek, watching the blood smear.

He was tired.

The tang of iron rested heavily in the back of his throat as the blood caked and dried in gritty streaks across his skin. He’d probably have to throw the shirt out. All his clothes, actually. You could only get so much blood out of something, especially once it was left on this long.

_ I wish I had been there. I could have made it. I could have taken the bullet. I should have. It would have been better that way, and it’s my responsibility as leader anyway _ .

Minato tried to push those thoughts away. He recognized the mental trap for what it was; those thoughts weren’t useful or productive or true, despite his own feelings on the matter.

Besides, Shinji felt the same way; so.

It was an unspoken acknowledgement between them, though Minato knew Shinjiro disapproved and didn’t want Minato to think that way, knowing full well it made him a hypocrite. They didn’t talk about it, but they knew.

Minato wondered if Shinji would be angry at him for saving him.

Probably.

_ It’s fine if it’s me, but no one else _ .

Hypocrites, the both of them.

Whatever.

“Minato?”

He looked in the glass’ reflection to see Aigis standing behind him. He tilted his head, but didn’t talk.

Couldn’t muster the energy.

Couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Are you alright?” she stepped closer to him, stopping just behind his shoulder. “Your excessive use of the Evoker tonight could have a negative impact upon your health. You should rest.”

_ I’m fine _ . He didn’t have the energy to say it, barely had the energy to shrug. She was right, though, exhaustion always made it worse. He had a feeling that this wouldn’t be one of the rare times that a full rest made him actually feel better though.

If he managed to get up tomorrow it would be a damn miracle, school be damned, because he just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

With a small sigh he turned and started walking in the vague direction of his room. He wasn’t surprised when she fell into step next to him, or when she seemed unfazed by his attitude and lack of a response. Unlike the others, she never took his silence or excessive bluntness as an insult, never took offense at his lack of a response. He wasn’t sure she understood his particular brand of  _ not-really-here _ , but she accepted it.

Considering her technology, though, it was entirely possible that she understood the chemistry and psychology behind it perfectly, and her lack of understanding of general human things was just social and trendy things.

Either way, it was a comfort not to have to try and force himself to make the other party more comfortable.

He found himself outside his door. He stared blankly at it. The handle seemed far away, like it would take a monumental effort just to reach it, much less turn it. And, anyway-

He turned his head slightly. “The others?” He should have asked sooner. He hadn’t thought to, but he was supposed to take responsibility as leader, right?

“Shinjiro is stable. Ken is currently asleep; he was in shock, but the others got him to rest and Koromaru has remained at his side. Akihiko and Mitsuru have remained by the infirmary with Ikutsuki-san to monitor Shinjiro. Everyone else has returned to their rooms, and I came to determine the state of your health.”

“I see. That’s… good. I’m fine.”

“You are tired,” she stated simply. “You have pushed yourself beyond safety with your Persona usage, and likely will experience some aftereffects in the coming days. I advise you to rest and recover your strength.”

“… right. Thanks. Could you let Mitsuru know I made it to my room?”

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I shall inform her of your condition. Is there anything else you need?”

_ Solitude. Away. Escape.  _ “No. I’m heading to bed.”

“Understood. I will tell her.”

As he finally pushed forward into his room, allowing the door to fall closed behind him, he couldn’t help but think how much he appreciated Aigis’ straightforward acceptance of things. As much as he appreciated the sentiments behind it, the others’ pushy concerns were overwhelming- overbearing- sometimes.

He wanted to fall into bed and fall asleep. He was so, so tired. But he could imagine the looks on the others' faces when they found out, and they would, and that just wasn’t worth the upset. So he slowly fumbled his clothes off, tossing them in the corner of the bathroom to throw away later, and turned the shower as hot as it would go.

Glancing over at the mirror while waiting for the water to heat was a mistake. He found himself scanning his body with his eyes, tracing every flaw and scar visible on the skin. The large one on his chest that he’d gotten in the accident years ago, that no one had been able to explain, was mostly covered in blood. So were most of the smaller ones on his arms, actually.

Shinji had lost a  _ lot _ of blood. Akihiko was no better, he was sure. Hopefully he and Ken had gotten cleaned up.

Minato didn’t flinch as he stepped under the spray, even with the water too hot. It burned, dragging his attention to the sensation and away from the hollow guilt. He trembled under the strain of it and closed his eyes as the water cascaded over his head. Despite the heat, he still felt cold.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel enough for tears to fall.

Despite his hope, even the scalding water wasn’t enough to wash all the blood off. With a tired sigh he reached over and poured soap into his hand, using it to scrub at his skin.

The foamy water in the bottom of the shower slowly turned a muddy pink color as he dragged his hands and nails through the flakey mess across his body. It stung and hurt, but it was enough to ground him. He dug his nails into his arms with a shudder, staring at the streaks of red irritation against his pale skin. He wanted to claw his skin off. He wanted it to stop hurting. He wanted to feel normal emotions. He wanted to hide away so his emotions never overwhelmed him again.

He wanted it all to just stop.

Slumping against the side of the shower, he stared dully at the swirling water. He was sick of this. All the time, never changing. Lifting only for brief moments, before dragging him back into the fog of his own mind.

It was easy to lose track of time normally, but even more when he was exhausted and overwhelmed and trapped in the dull repetition of ceaseless pounding water. By the time he pulled himself back into some form of coherent thought the soap was long washed away and the soreness of his body had really set in. He reached forward and turned the water off. The sudden silence was deafening, the abrupt chill bone deep.

Scrubbing at his hair with his towel was the extent of the effort he could muster. He tossed it on the counter and flipped the lights off as he stepped into his room. Luckily for anyone who decided to check on him later, he’d had the forethought to leave sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt on the bed. It took the last of his effort to pull them on before collapsing onto the bed and falling hard into sleep.

He woke up the next morning to the sun in his face and a hand on his shoulder. Squinting, he focused blearily on Mitsuru leaning over him. She appeared concerned.

“Arisato? How are you feeling?”

Tired. Always tired. Had she come to get him for school? Something twisted in his stomach at that thought, the numbness receding a bit to allow for the anxiety of existence to sink in. He shook his head and buried his face in his pillow. He wanted to go back to sleep.

She hesitated, then said, “I won’t force you to go to school, after the effort you expended last night I believe it would be better for you to rest. I can make your excuses to the school. However you do need to eat something, else you won’t be able to properly regain your strength.”

He wasn’t hungry, but he nodded to appease her. She frowned, likely seeing through him, but left it alone. For now. She’d probably send Aigis after him later.

Sinking back into sleep was a blessing, everything fading away into nothingness.

The next time he was woken, it was midafternoon and his body ached. There was a gnawing in his stomach, and he took a long moment to debate whether he had the energy to get up for food before realizing that he could smell food and there was someone next to his bed.

He blinked, rubbing his eyes as he focused on Akihiko.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” he made an attempt at humor, but it fell flat. “I brought food, because I figured you hadn’t been up either.”

“Either?” His voice was rough and weak. He swallowed and shakily pushed himself up. He felt… marginally better. He had the energy to move, at least, though the idea of actually getting up made him feel like he was moving through molasses.

Akihiko grimaced. “Ken’s not doing so great. Koromaru, Yukari, and I managed to convince him to eat a little bit, at least, but he still hasn’t gotten up.”

That wasn’t a good sign, but Minato could understand. “Just keep an eye on him. You said food?”

Akihiko nodded and offered a plate of reheated leftovers. “Not as good as fresh-cooked, but I figured it was better than nothing.”

“It’s fine. Thanks.” Minato sat cross-legged and took the plate. “Shinji?”

“He hasn’t woken up and he’s still weak, but he’s stable. The IVs have been doing their job, so he should be fine. I-” Akihiko ran a hand through his hair, looking to the side. “Thanks. For- what you did.”

Minato paused. He wasn’t sure what to say.

_ Of course, how could I not? _

_ I’m the leader, it was my responsibility. _

_ ~> _ __ _. . . _

He shrugged, looking down at his food as he shoved another forkful in his mouth.

A hand settled in his hair, startling him into looking back up. Akihiko was giving him a tired smile, and tilted his head to the bed questioningly. Minato scooted to the side in silent invitation, and Akihiko settled next to him with clasped hands and a distant expression.

Minato noticed the hints of blood beneath his fingernails too.

“I know you and Shinji are pretty similar,” Akihiko began, and Minato watched him neutrally. He hadn’t realized, but it didn’t surprise him too much. Akihiko had known Shinji for years, it made sense that he could recognize the signs. “And I know how Shinji feels, but…”

“You disagree.” Minato said simply. “That’s not bad.” He thought of SEES’ concern for him, despite his lackluster reciprocation. “You’re his friend, of course you care.”

He huffed out a breath. “Yeah. You probably understand how he feels better than I do, but… I don’t want him to disappear.”

“I didn’t either,” Minato said quietly. “He’s a friend. I get it, but…” His hands twitched. “I’m selfish enough that I’d rather make him angry than let him die. It’s going to make things harder with the team, but I think it’s worth it.”

“Yeah,” Akihiko agreed with a sigh. “He’ll probably be pissed at us, and the thing with Ken is going to be rough to deal with, but… better than losing him. I think, at least.”

Minato scratched at the grit under his fingernail, staring at the plate. He didn’t know the answer. He had no idea what he was doing- was just leaping blindly in the dark and hoping there was ground. He’d managed so far, to avoid leading the team to self destruction, but- this was something else.

“We’ll have to talk to them about it,” he said. “And about Strega. Shinji knows something, and I imagine Ken does too, now. Whatever the three of them talked about.”

“Yeah.”

It was quiet between them.

“Hey… you know we’re here for you too, you know.”

“I know.” Minato set the empty plate on the nightstand. “I’m better than I was, it’s fine.”

Akihiko huffed and slung an arm over his shoulders. Minato twitched in surprise, but didn’t pull away. Akihiko was warm against his side, and he found himself slumping against him almost without realizing. It felt… nice. He always forgot how nice contact felt.

A knock at the door drew their attention, and Minato pushed himself to call, “It’s open.”

The door creaked open, and Ken peeked his head in hesitantly. Akihiko straightened, but Minato couldn’t bring himself to move. He just gestured for Ken to come in.

The boy hesitated, but Koromaru nudged him inside and he edged in nervously.

“U-Um…” he was wringing his hands, but Minato could see the sluggishness to the motions, the circles under his eyes, the waver to his posture.

“Ken…” Akihiko murmured.

Minato had mostly used up his speech quota for the day, and Ken didn’t look to be in any mindstate to be carrying a heavy discussion.

He also didn’t want to have to move. So.

He nudged Akihiko back onto the bed, and held an arm out to Ken. The boy stared at him wide eyed, but Koromaru, bless him, shoved Ken forward. The boy stumbled to the bed, and thankfully Akihiko caught on and apparently didn’t mind the idea, because they both caught Ken and pulled him into their impromptu hug. Koromaru followed, and they shifted around into something comfortable.

Ken was shaking, about to cry, and Minato carded a hand through his hair as Akihiko rubbed his back. He broke, sobbing against Minato’s shoulder as apologies tumbled out. Koromaru pressed close.

It took a little while for Ken to cry himself out, sliding into sleep soon after, but Minato was content to stay here and allow him some measure of comfort and escape. For a little while, at least. With Koromaru and Akihiko also here-

He’d forgotten how warm other people could be. The chill couldn’t be chased away entirely, but this… it helped.

He closed his eyes, and allowed himself to follow Ken into sleep. There would be a lot to deal with later, but for now…

For now, they could rest for a bit.


	11. Day 11 - Defiance/Struggling/Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different distortion, a different situation, different enemies, different companions-
> 
> And yet here he was, in that same situation all over again. How did it come to this? How was he- how were they- supposed to handle this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt that’s right up my alley this was frustratingly hard to do. I’ve changed ideas and erased it twice. Probably because I was stressing about school stuff too, and got burned out for a bit. So wile I will eventually finish all these, it probably will not be in October. Oops.
> 
> Don’t try to do an intensive writing challenge for the first time ever while taking four higher level college classes around midterms, kids.
> 
> (For the “king”- think Palmer and Heidigger from FFVII mixed.)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Restraints, Failed negotiation, Collars, Torture, Panic attacks, Triggered PTSD, Disassociation

When Akira woke up, he was cuffed to the wall in the room of what appeared to be a dungeon. It wasn’t a cell, exactly, it was too large for that. A large, open room; stone walls and floors and torches along the walls.

He glanced to his left and found Yu and Minato also cuffed to the wall, unconscious.

Great.

None of their teams were there, though, so obviously Oracle’s Position Hack had successfully gotten them all out. Except that Akira had gotten yanked out of the circle by an enemy’s long-range attack, and Yu and Minato had immediately jumped after him without hesitation. At least the teleport had gone through before anyone else could as well, but it still meant that the two of them were here too.

Even three wildcards couldn’t take on an entire army at once. That had been the point of the Position Hack. To get everyone out of this strange world’s castle and back to base because there were too many to handle.

_ Damn it! _

Careless, and now the three of them were stuck here. And it was entirely on him.

He clicked his tongue and shifted, trying to get a better look at the cuffs. The keyhole was in the center of the bar between them, and he knew at a glance that he wouldn’t be able to reach with his lockpicks. The cuffs were tight around his wrists as well, his hands wouldn’t fit through no matter how he twisted.

This was bad.

He glanced over at the sound of a sigh and found Yu blinking his eyes open. He scanned the room briefly and glanced up at the cuffs with a tug, and a malcontent expression flitted across his face. Clearly coming to the same conclusion Akira had. He looked over and his gaze met Akira’s.

The relief in his eyes only compounded Akira’s guilt.

“You alright?”

“Kinda stuck,” Akira quipped back. “But otherwise I’m fine. You?”

“Bruised,” Yu shifted, glanced around again. “And I don’t like this scenery. But I’m not hurt.”

“That’s something.” They both looked over as Minato spoke, sitting up with a flat scowl. “The cuffs are the same as the bars earlier, though. It’s blocking out our Persona.”

Akira grimaced. He hadn’t quite gotten to that point yet, but now that he’d said something it was obvious by Arsene’s silence. “Any ideas?”

They fell silent, examining the cuffs and room.

“It seems like we’ll just have to wait for an opportunity,” Minato sighed.

Hands clenching, Akira glared at the far wall. Considering the situation, just sitting and waiting was… “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t paying attention. This shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not your fault.” Yu shook his head. “We were all doing a last minute headcount- it could have happened to any of us. You were bringing up the rear, so you were closest. That’s all. And it was our choice to follow.”

“Still…” Akira sighed and rolled his head. “This is probably bad.”

At least their teams were out.

“Wonder what they want,” Minato mused, allowing his head to fall back as he looked at the ceiling.

“If they want a deal we might be able to take advantage of it.” Akira considered the thought, turning over pieces of what the so-called  _ king _ of this world could want. Considering how lavish this castle was, using his own greed against him might work.

Yu grimaced and pushed himself up, and Akira noticed him twisting his wrists. They were red, and he felt a familiar knot forming in his throat at the reminder of the last time he was forcefully caught. “Possibly, though I admit the idea of even faking a deal leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Yeah…”

They all tensed and looked up as the far door opened, admitting the “king” in all his garish, gold silked glory, carried in on a litter as the armored Shadow guards formed rank around him.

Akira felt sick to his stomach at the sight, more so as the bastard sneered down at them with eyes as gold as his clothes.

Being forced lower than this guy pissed him off.

He laughed, a high pitched nasal sound, looking and sounding every inch the cliche, cartoonishly evil king he appeared. It would have been comical if it weren’t so serious.

If they hadn’t already seen evidence in hidden rooms of what he was willing to do to people who crossed him.

“Well well well, the trespassers and thieves meet their match. Really, you should have expected this. Crossing  _ me _ of all people- really, the  _ audacity _ ! This was a predetermined outcome. Now… how to handle this situation… Such impertinence can’t go unpunished, of course. However, there is the problem of the others…”

Akira ground his teeth. Listening to him was frustrating enough, between his arrogance and ear-piercing warble, but bringing up the others-

He was  _ lucky _ Akira couldn’t reach Arsene right now.

“Hmph, perhaps you should simply save us all the trouble and tell us where they are.”

_ No way in hell _ .

“And why would we do that?” Minato’s voice was long-suffering, as though he was indulging a child throwing a tantrum, and it made Akira’s lips twitch. He bit back the smile, and saw Yu do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Akira didn’t know why so many of the others thought Minato had no sense of humor, he was hilarious.

The “king” spluttered in outrage, turning an ugly shade of violet as he immediately lost his cool. “Because I told you to! I am the  _ King _ , I make the rules and everyone else has to follow them! That’s how it works!”

“And what do we get in return?” Akira drawled out, eyes flicking across the guards. They’d have to handle this carefully, walking the line between provocation and outright hostility that would get them killed. But pulling on his greed, stroking his ego and pretentiousness a bit- “You want us to do something, so you offer us incentive. Isn’t that how this goes? We get something, and you get what you want.” The king was obviously materialistic, so appealing to that would draw a point of similarity between them, making the “king” less hostile… theoretically. According to psychology textbooks.

(Yeah. Okay. Sure.)

He was still flustered, but the words seemed to calm him down. “Yes- yes, of course. I have many, many treasures. Why else would you be here? Tell me where the others are, and I’ll give you treasures beyond your wildest dreams.”

Akira had never, ever thought he’d ever miss Shido as an enemy, but here they were.

God, at least Shido was a half decent liar. This was just painful.

“Such as?” He asked lackadaisically. “Surely you can’t expect such a vague deal. There’s usually at least some promise of freedom or security.”

The “king” laughed, a nervous titter that made Akira want to cover his ears as it  _ grated _ . “But of course! I simply- thought it was a given!”

He’d fucking take  _ Kamoshida _ over this.

“I see,” he said neutrally, mentally imagining dropping Mara on him from twenty feet up. It would be cathartic. And fitting, considering how much of a dick this guy was. “So as long as we give you the location of our comrades, we’ll go free along with some treasure.”

_ Go to hell. _

“Precisely!” The “king” beamed pompously. “Not a bad deal, eh?!”

_ Go. To. Hell _ .

“It’s not,” he agreed placidly. Channel Goro during a TV interview. Smile emptily while mentally imagining the gruesome murder of your contender. Ugh, Goro and Haru shouldn’t have been allowed to form the truly terrifying relationship they had. It was rubbing off on the rest of them. “Although it’s not quite as simple as that. After all, we weren’t planning to get caught. As such, even if we tell you, it’s unlikely your men will be able to find it so easily.”

The “kings” expression was darkening. “Meaning?”

Akira shrugged. “Wouldn’t it make more sense just to show you? That way you aren’t wasting time on a wild goose chase in the middle of the wild, and we get to go free that much sooner. You hold onto the treasure until we get back so that we can’t double cross you, and we show you the way.” Akira’s heart pounded in his chest. That argument was sound, and would appeal to the “king’s” impulses and greed, but would it be enough-? He couldn’t afford to screw this negotiation up. Not with them trapped like this.

The “king” sat back thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. “Hmm, I see… I see… yes, that does make sense. An excellent deal indeed.”

Akira had a moment to hope- before another voice cut through the air.

“He’s lying.”

Akira tensed as the guard in the golden armor, the captain most likely, stepped forward.

“It’s a trick, your Majesty, so that they can escape. They’ll reunite with their companions and simply sneak back in to steal what they like while your guard is down.”

“After how well that worked out last time?” Akira bit out. “You think we’re stupid enough to try the same thing twice?” Granted they  _ hadn’t _ , actually, tried. None of them had particularly wanted to be here in the first place, they’d just been stuck here and been trying to get  _ away _ . Not that these guys had believed that.

“You thieves are all the same,” the guard scoffed. “Dishonorable liars, the lot of you.”

Now he was professionally offended.

The “king’s” expression darkened into a scowl, and Akira scrambled for something to say. This was bad, he’d been so close-

“I see, I suppose it was a waste of time trying to reason with you peasants.”

Akira tried again. This was their only chance, and if he couldn’t finish the negotiation- “It isn’t. That was an assumption, not the truth. We weren’t-”

The “king” scoffed and flipped his hand. “Nonsense, I have full faith in my captain.”

This wasn’t good. It was quickly falling through, at the mere word of the captain. They had to do  _ something _ , and he flicked a glance at the other two. Minato was biting his lip, expression blank but anxiety in his eyes. Yu looked as calm as ever, though his eyes showed the alarm his face didn’t.

“And what proof does he have that we were planning anything of the like?” Yu interjected calmly, voice even. Akira held his breath. That was a good point, and he hoped it worked, because he couldn’t think of anything else. They couldn’t either, clearly, with how concerned they were. Not with the lack of logic or fairness they were presented with.

“His word is as good as proof,” the “king” sniffed. “If he says as such, then it is. He’s served me well, and I put my full faith in him, over the word of some petty thieves.”

No. No, this was  _ bad _ .

He waved to the servants, and they lifted the litter. He ignored the three of them in favor of the captain. “I leave their interrogation to you. Get that location, no matter what it takes.”

_ Shit! _

Akira glared darkly at the guards that remained as the “king” disappeared, every nerve in his body becoming alight with terror. He’d been here before. He’d never thought he’d come back in anything but his nightmares. He’d survived it last time, made it through despite the injuries and pain. He’d weathered it once, he could do it again.

He wasn’t alone this time though.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other two. They were as expressionless as he’d expected, but they were tense. Whether with fear or determination he wasn’t sure. He didn’t know how long they could stay that way, though.

Wasn’t sure how long he could, either. This wasn’t the police station, they didn’t even have to pretend to stay within the constraints of the law. They were Shadows, and had free reign here.

“Consider this your one chance to die a peaceful death,” the captain monotoned. It made his skin crawl. “Speak now, and you will be granted that mercy. Hold your tongue, and you will face unimaginable pain until you  _ can’t _ .”

Fury blazed in his chest. “ _ Go to hell _ ,” he spat. He hadn’t sold them out before, he wouldn’t now.

“You underestimate us if you believe we would sell out our friends so easily,” Yu said coldly, and Akira could hear a similar fury in his tone. He’d never seen Yu angry before, but it was hard to appreciate it considering the situation.

Minato didn’t say anything, only glared darkly at the armored Shadows, but somehow it conveyed more than words ever could. He didn’t have his Persona, but Akira could still almost feel the searing anger so unlike him.

He didn’t know if it made him feel better or worse, but he was still terrified and trembling and he hated it.

He could handle it; but he didn’t want to have to.

The captain jerked his head and three other Shadows moved towards them, each holding something. Akira squinted, trying to figure out what it was, but he couldn’t tell beyond a small metal hoop of some sort.

And then the guard knelt down and reached towards his neck with it, and Akira kicked out in a desperate attempt to stop it. The guard shoved his legs down and knelt across them, pinning him in place even as he writhed to get away. But the metal hoop settled around his neck with a sharp  _ click _ and he hissed in pain and fury as it pinched his skin. As the guards drew back, he saw that a similar exchange had happened with the other two. Yu had a red mark on his face and narrowed eyes, while Minato’s hair was mussed and his teeth were bared in a silent snarl.

The hoops were the same color and sheen of the cuffs, making it fairly clear what they were for. Akira didn’t know whether that should give him any sort of hope though. All of them were fit fighters, even with their weapons taken, but there were seven Shadows here. Without weapons or Persona- even if they were released from the wall, the chances weren’t good.

At this point, though, there was no choice. Not when they were about to be literally tortured for information-

Akira froze, ice settling in his stomach at the thought. The metal hoop felt like a noose, the cuffs digging into his wrists the same way as-

_ No. No no nonononono- _

Akira bit the inside of his cheek,  _ hard _ , to ground himself here and now with the pain. What was done was done, and this was- different.

_ Worse _ , he thought dizzily as the captain strode forward, heavy metal clanking against the stone floor. He stopped, observing the three of them.

Akira gritted his teeth and glared back. If he could provoke him into pulling him from the cuffs-

“Hmph, such an irritating look in your eyes,” the captain sneered at him.

_ “That look in your eyes  _ **_irritates_ ** _ me.” _

Apparently it was the day for bad memories, because he did not need to remember that first experience in Kamoshida’s dungeon thanks.

“Good,” he shot back, fighting through the dread pulling in his chest. “The last thing I want is you getting your way.”

He scoffed. “Mouthy brat. Enjoy it while you can. I know your type; I know how to break you.”

Akira bared his teeth at him. “You wouldn’t be the first to try. It didn’t work for them and it won’t work for you. I’m not giving them up.”

“Exactly.” The guard sounded amused, now, and it made Akira freeze. He was taken off guard and suddenly feeling like he was balancing on the edge of a cliff. Something was… wrong- off- with the way he said that. “I know your type. You’ll fight to the end with bared bloody teeth on your own, careless of your own injuries. But you’ll try to protect  _ them _ to the last.” He chuckled and Akira felt the ice settle itself down to his bones. He couldn’t mean- “So; you’ll go last. Your type is a fighter, but watching your friends be hurt for you? You can withstand the physical tolls, but emotionally…” Akira was shaking, staring wide eyed at him. “You’re so easy to break.”

_ No. No, please no. _

Minato scoffed. “You think you’ll get anything better from us?” His blue eyes were blazing with fury, and when they flicked over to meet Akira’s own, his own resolve shone back.

“We aren’t so easy to break,” Yu said lowly, silver eyes almost glowing with fury of his own as he stared down the Shadow with a steel gaze. “Any of us.” His gaze was hard when it settled on Akira’s, reassuring and determined.

_ We’re not backing down either. You aren’t alone. _

It made him feel simultaneously better and worse. He didn’t want to see this. He couldn’t. It was bad enough if it was him, but for them-

But then, they probably felt the same way.

_ If it’s us or them, we’ll always choose us _ .

They did it for their teams constantly, and it was almost habit to do it for each other too. But- they were the same. The three of them were the same, so he knew it was the same for them as it was for him. He’d been taking the lead because of his experience with negotiating with Shadows but-

_ Well, look how that turned out _ .

“Hmph, we’ll see. Since you’re so confident, I guess you can go first.”

Akira yanked on the cuffs as two guards strode forward. He could see Yu’s muscles tense, preparing to act the moment he was released. It wouldn’t work, they all knew it wouldn’t, but  _ damned _ if they wouldn’t try.

The cuffs clicked open, and both guards were knocked back as Yu  _ leapt _ off the wall. He managed to get one’s sword and kill both Shadows before turning towards the remaining five with a set expression. Akira dared to hope, because he’d  _ seen _ Yu fight, and maybe, just maybe-

Then the metal hoop on his neck glowed, and he was knocked to the ground as a burst of wind erupted around him. It knocked the sword several feet away, and when it cleared there were small gashes across Yu’s body. He shook, obviously disoriented, but shoved himself to his feet anyway.

It didn’t matter, because the next moment two of the other guards were there and the hilt of a sword was slammed into his stomach, making him fall to the floor coughing and gasping for air.

Akira gritted his teeth and trembled as Yu was kicked onto his side, fury and fear warring for dominance in his chest.

The captain set a foot on Yu’s chest, pressing down to make him wince and wheeze. “You will tell us, one way or another.”

He glared up at the captain, expression resolute even as fear shone in his eyes, and Akira felt tears of frustration burn behind his own. He didn’t want to see this, but he couldn’t look away.

(His team hadn’t looked away when it was him, miles away with only a camera and the injuries to prove it had happened. Had been with him in spirit, if not physicality. He was here, and could do nothing, but- he couldn’t avert his eyes from this.)

As the captain removed his foot and kicked Yu in the side, making him curl with a cut off gasp, Akira heard Minato hiss. He glanced over for a moment to see him with an expression that mirrored his own feelings.

The captain asked more questions, the other guards joining in, and Yu continued refusing to answer. As it continued on, Akira found himself sliding back into that distant headspace that he’d spent so much time trying to avoid after-  _ after _ . He wasn’t even the one being hurt, but the familiarity of the questions, the silence, the reactions-

It was Yu, and then Minato, but it was him. He’d been here before.

He tried to fight it, tried to cling to the sensations of reality, tried to tether himself to  _ here _ and  _ now _ , but it slipped away. He managed to catch it for a moment, a beacon of clarity and Arsene roared in his mind-

But then a burst of light flashed across his vision and pain erupted through his entire body and a Bless attack from the metal hoop scattered his will and he fell back with a cry.

The guards scoffed, and he blinked through the blurriness to meet Minato’s glazed, pained eyes as he lay bleeding at the captain’s feet. Even with that, there was a flicker of concern, and Akira couldn’t fight the tears that fell down his cheeks.

_ I’m sorry, _ he thought dazedly.  _ I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry- _

“I’ll ask again,” the captain drawled, sword tip resting on Minato’s back in a threat. It was at his side, where there wouldn’t be a risk of any fatal injuries. “Where are your comrades?”

_ I’m so sorry _ .

They didn’t answer, Akira clenching his teeth the way he had when preparing to take another blow from the officers at first.

Minato’s cry still cut through him in a way the officers couldn’t have, and a silent sob shook his shoulders. There was nothing he could  _ do _ except hold his tongue. He hated this, hated hated  _ hated _ it. He’d have rather taken the blows himself than be forced to watch this.

And then he did, when they couldn’t get anything from Minato either. They turned to him, and suddenly-

The captain asked a question-

-the officers descended when Akira didn’t answer-

-the man scoffed and reminded him that they had evidence and asked if they needed the truth serum-

-the sword cut through his side with jagged agony that was worse than the needles-

-there was no one here in this underground room but him and the interrogators-

-Yu and Minato were unmoving on the ground but their eyes weren’t completely closed around the tears-

-Akira  _ didn’t beg _ for them to stop verbally, even as he screamed mentally-

-the metal- stone- metal- stone was cold beneath him and everything hurt-

-he  _ didn’tanswerdidn’tanswerdidn’tanswer _ and the officer- guard- man- captain- stepped forward with a snarl and-

Everything went dark.

.

.

.

Akira blinked hazily, staring at the cracks in the stone bricks through blurry, burning eyes. His head felt like it was about to split open- his whole body hurt. Jagged aches from the wounds inflicted by the guards, sharp burns from the Bless recoils from the damned  _ collar _ they’d shoved on them.

And the other two were just as bad- probably  _ worse _ considering they’d taken the brunt of it.

How had they all held out? How had they resisted the temptation to talk? To just  _ lie _ , send the guards on a wild goose chase in the opposite direction and let it  _ end _ ?

Maybe because it was all three of them on the line. None of them wanted to die, and they especially weren’t willing to kill each other. No matter how bad it got.

_ It hurts. It hurts it hurtsithurts- _

A sob tore itself from his chest, setting his body ablaze with pain anew. Everything hurt so much, as much as it had then- now?- no- it had been… been…

How long had it been since the interrogation room? He couldn’t remember.

It felt like he’d never left.

He curled in on himself, clutching at his aching arms as his body was wracked with sobs. He faded back into that mindless haze, allowing the pain to block everything but his own emotions out. He was drifting in an ocean of black, only vaguely registering the grey stones beneath him with open- sightless- eyes.

A sharp, jagged noise broke through his haze, and he painstakingly turned his head to see Yu struggling to get an arm beneath him. Blood was pooled around him and he had an agonized expression, whole body obviously shaking even from here, but he slowly pushed himself up with slow, deep breaths.

“Pretty sure you’re gonna hurt yourself more,” Minato managed out, voice hoarse.

Yu huffed with a shake of his head, but didn’t say anything. Akira watched him blankly, trying to muster something- anything- to say or do. But he couldn’t think of anything. Everything felt distant, and it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to help anyway.

All three of them twitched at the loud sound of a distant explosion, and Akira  _ felt _ the ground tremble beneath him. What-?

“Cavalry’s here,” Minato muttered, stirring weakly.

Cavalry…? Oh, the others must have come back. Good… probably.

“How long…?” was all he managed out before his breath hitched and he descended into a coughing fit.

God everything hurt.

“A while.” Yu finally said. “I don’t… know exactly. Too long.”

Minato murmured, “Not much longer, though.”

He could hope.

It felt like he was fading in and out of consciousness as he lay there, staring distantly at the cracked stone beneath him and listening to distant sounds of explosions and fighting. It took all his willpower not to fade out entirely, to cling to consciousness long enough for the others to get there.

Then the door opened with a click, and several of their teammates rushed in with cries. Mona and Ann slid to a stop next to him, and he finally let go and fell into unconsciousness.

When he next awoke, he was lying on something soft with a blanket covering him. The pain was a distant ache, and a glance down revealed his injuries to be mostly gone. Ah, right, this world allowed them to use their Persona. The others must have healed him then.

Tilting his head to the side, he saw Minato and Yu asleep on cots across the room. Yukari and Aigis were- asleep? Could Aigis sleep?- by Minato, while Yosuke had his head on one arm while the other reached to Yu’s hand. He glanced down and found Haru asleep with her head on her arms next to him.

Before he could think better of it, he reached out and brushed her curls with his hand. Verifying that she was here. That this was real.

She stirred, blinking awake to stare at him, then quickly sat up and grabbed his hand with hers. “You’re awake!” she said quietly, relieved.

“Or something,” he agreed, voice weak and scratchy. “Thanks for the rescue. Everyone make it out alright?”

She sighed, exasperated and fond, but didn’t look surprised that that was the first thing he asked. “Yes, everyone came out of it with only minor injuries except for you three, but we healed you too. And,” a satisfied expression flitted across her face. “We destroyed the castle and killed the king and guards. With  _ much _ enthusiasm and zeal.” She smiled- one of her innocent ones that she gave when saying something terrifying, that always made him want to laugh. “We’ve been taking turns watching over you while we waited for you to wake up. The other two have woken up a couple of times and their teams have properly fussed over them, so we’ve just been waiting for our turn.”

He couldn’t muster the energy for a laugh, but he smiled at her. “I see. Thanks.”

Haru’s own smile faded a bit. “How are you feeling?”

It took a moment for him to answer, taking stock of himself rather than shrugging and saying he was fine. A habit they’d all been trying to break. “A bit sore, but nothing particularly noticeable. A lot better than last time.” Something felt off, and he couldn’t determine what. Something akin to dread curling in his stomach- an expectation of something that never came. He didn’t know what, and he couldn’t understand it. There was no reason to be afraid- the others were all fine, and he was healed so he didn’t even hurt that badly and-

The feeling of hands on his face made him still and look up at Haru, uncertain of when he’d looked away. She looked worried, and as her thumbs swiped under his eyes he realized he was crying.

“What-? he whispered, confused. “I- I don’t-?” His voice cracked, and his shoulders shook, and Haru climbed forward to hug him tightly. He curled his arms around her waist as he pressed his face into her shoulder and fell apart. “I don’t understand. I don’t- I don’t know why I feel like this. Everything’s fine now, right? We’re okay, everyone else is okay, so why- why do I feel like something awful is about to happen?”

Her arms tightened around him, but it was someone else who spoke from next to them.

“It’s probably a lingering feeling from last time,” Makoto said softly. “Because last time, the interrogation wasn’t the end. It simply premeditated our own plan, and you made that association with it. But this time that wasn’t true, we just had to rescue you, and so you feel like there’s something wrong, still, because the events didn’t play out like they “ _ should have _ ” to your mind.”

“Considering how long we spent planning for it last time,” Haru agreed, carding her fingers through his hair, “that’s not really surprising. And…” she hesitated, and he pulled back to see her and Makoto looking concerned. “Well, last time you were badly injured, and it took weeks to heal, even with our attempts in the Metaverse, because they were real-world injuries. This time they were sustained here, and so we could properly heal them here, and… it could be causing a disconnect.”

It didn’t hurt. He kept expecting it to, but it didn’t. It had last time. That… made sense. He swallowed and nodded. “I… yeah. That makes sense. Sorry, I just…” THere was no reason for it. He  _ knew _ this was a different situation, so why…  _ ugh _ .

“Don’t  _ apologize _ .” Makoto sent him an exasperated look.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Haru said, pressing a hand to his cheek again. “It’s completely understandable. You’ll just have to heal from it again, the same as last time.”

Makoto sat next to them, pressing her shoulder to his. “And we’ll be here, the same as last time. You’ll pull through, Joker.”

He huffed out a laugh, something easing in his chest at her quiet confidence. Their solid belief. It… really was the same as last time, even as it wasn’t. The situation was different, but the end-

Well, they were still here. That never changed.

Always at his side.

What did the details matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not completely satisfied with the end, but I can always change it later. For now, I just wanted to get it out. TuT


	12. Day 12 - Broken Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month and then it's all over.
> 
> They've made it this long, they can't give up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Implied/Referenced medical experimentation, Panic attack, Disassociation, Breakdown, Codependency, Teenage assassins

Infiltrating the Phantom Thieves was far more enjoyable than Goro was comfortable with. Despite the fact that they even knew  _ why _ he was there- and hadn’t that been stressful to ensure- they still welcomed him into their group with far more ease than he thought was wise.

Part of that was their infuriatingly kind and warm leader, he was sure.

Still, the multi-hour runs in Mementos left him exhausted in ways he hadn’t expected. They nearly weren’t as grueling and dangerous with a group, they covered each other’s weaknesses and shared the burden of healing, but constantly interacting with the group in close proximity and being…  _ honest _ to an extent was… it was exhausting. In ways even battle after battle on his own or with his partner didn’t manage. He just wanted to shower and crawl in bed and sleep.

The apartment was dark when he returned, twisting something in his chest.

It hadn’t been a good day then.

He bit his lip as he hung his jacket on the hook and slipped his shoes off. Leaving his briefcase on the coffee table, idly noting the disassembled gun case, knives, and messy bandages scattered across it, he made his way to the bedroom. There was a lump under the blankets, curled up into a ball.

Goro considered checking on him, but- well, he hadn’t moved when Goro stepped up to the nightstand which meant he was asleep. A shower first, give him some more time to sleep before forcing him to eat something.

When he returned, the covers shifted slightly to expose messy black hair and tired gunmetal grey eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Food?”

“Do I have to?”

Goro sighed and sat on the bed next to him. “Yes, Akira, you do.”

The other boy grimaced. “ _ Really _ not hungry, Goro.” He shifted slightly more above the covers, and Goro took note of the bandages wrapping up around his neck and shoulder under his shirt.

“The labs?”

“Yeah. Wanted to test out their latest attempt at Persona evocation in the real world. More Plumes, different solution or whatever. It hurt like hell and I spent three hours throwing it up, along with some of that disgusting cognitive gunk Shadows pop out of, when I got back. You sure we can’t just murder Shido and Miyamoto now?”

Goro sighed and reached out to run his fingers through dark curls. “That still leaves the rest of the Conspiracy.”

“And you can’t take care of it from the light side of the law? I mean, how hard can exposing a conspiracy that kidnaps kids out of orphanages and hospitals to turn them into living weapons-slash-experiments be?”

“Exactly as hard as you would expect, even without Shido.”

Akira sighed, conceding the point, and changed the subject. “How are the Phantom Thieves?”

“Annoying. Very, very annoying. Ren is just-  _ infuriating _ .”

“He’s being nice to you, isn’t he?”

Goro groaned and flopped onto the bed next to Akira. “Yes, he is. He’s being perfectly welcoming and keeps offering to talk if I want to. Trying to save me with the power of friendship, I guess.”

“Good to know he hasn’t changed in the ten years I’ve been gone,” Akira laughed tiredly. “And the others?”

“Various shades of the same. Sakamoto of all people is the most wary, while Oracle seems… strangely concerned.”

“She responded to her tragedy by becoming an internationally known cyber-terrorist, she’s probably projecting a bit. Medjed and Alibaba are not nice, even before Medjed got hijacked. She’s probably ruined enough lives with those companies she’s sent under to make a comparison. What about Okumura?”

Goro groaned again. “Somehow she’s even worse. Considering how terrifying she is to Shadows that cross her, I fully expected her to play the innocently-murderous character. Instead, she’s doing approximately the same as Ren, and it’s somehow  _ more _ terrifying.”

“The true horror of the world: people who are kinder than they are cruel.”

“ _ Ugh _ . Even Nijima, Mona, and Kitagawa are playing neutrally benevolent, and Takamaki is bright and cheerful and friendly. It’s stressful as hell and I have no idea how to handle it.”

Akira laughed, brighter this time, and reached an arm out of the blanket to sling it around Goro’s waist and pull him close. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

He sighed, cautious of Akira’s injuries as he rolled against him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “I hate this. I really do.”

Akira hummed and ran his fingers through Goro’s hair, knowing he didn’t mean working with the Phantom Thieves. “A month and seven days. Then it’ll all be over. One way or another.”

“A month and seven days,” Goro agreed quietly. “It seems so far away.”

“We’ve made it ten years.”

They lay there for a few minutes, soaking up each other’s warmth, then Goro cajoled him up and to the living room couch. Akira curled up with a sushi roll joke, and Goro kissed his head and pulled out his phone to order take-out. Once that was done, he turned to the mess on the table.

“Sorry,” Akira offered quietly, looking small suddenly. “I meant to clean up, but…”

Goro shook his head immediately. “It’s fine. We’ve both cleaned up after each other often enough before when we aren’t in any shape to do it ourselves.”

“True.”

He watched with a melancholic expression as Goro packed up his weapons, setting them and his own briefcase with the rest before wiping down the table. He finished just as the food arrived, and returned with the take-out boxes and chopsticks.

Akira settled against his side as he returned to the couch and pulled out the food. Dragging the table closer, they set the food on it relaxed against each other.

He noticed Akira just picking at the vegetables half-heartedly and grimaced. Considering how the day had gone, it wasn’t surprising he had no appetite. They’d both done this with each other often enough for it to be familiar. Still, he needed to eat or else he would just be more miserable later.

He snagged a leek with his chopsticks and offered it to the other boy. Akira arched a brow at him, but obligingly opened his mouth and accepted it.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said blandly as Goro picked up a carrot.

“Good thing I’m not trying to hide it then,” he shot back. He set the carrot back down at Akira’s grimace, though. “If it’s that bad I can make some rice and miso.”

Akira shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll eat this rice, just…” he sighed. “Slowly. I’m really not hungry. This sucks.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault Miyamoto is a psychotic bastard.” Akira turned to press his head against Goro’s for a moment before turning back to the food. “A month and seven days.”

Goro stilled at the sudden shift in tone. He’d been expecting it, but…

He turned to look at Akira,  _ watched _ as his eyes glazed over and a tell-tale shiver ran through him. “A month… and seven days…” Goro set his food and chopsticks down and turned to wrap his arms around Akira.

He gave a full body shudder and turned to bury his face in Goro’s neck, hands clutching desperately at his shirt. “A month, just a month, one more month-”

“We can make it,” Goro whispered. “We can make another month.”

“I don’t know.” Akira let out a broken sob. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Goro. I’m tired. I’m so, so fucking tired. It hurts so much, and I just want it to stop. I’m tired of hurting. Tired of watching you be hurt.”

“It will,” he whispered. “It will. We’ve made it nearly ten years, Akira. We survived the experiments, the “training”, the missions and successes and failures. We’ve hurt and lost and forgotten what normal means, but we’ve made it. We can and we  _ will _ make it another month. We haven’t made it this far just to give up now. We’ll make it through this week, and so will they, and then we’ll make it through the next month until that bastard finally  _ falls _ . He’ll grovel for forgiveness in front of the entire fucking world and then it’ll be over. Whatever-” his voice broke, turned thick. “Whatever happens after that, at least Shido and Miyamoto and the experiments and missions will be  _ over _ .”

Akira shuddered and clung to him as tears stained his shirt, sobbing as the events of the day finally caught up to him once he was fully safe. Goro clung back just as hard, running his fingers through his hair to sooth him as he murmured quiet reassurances.

Eventually the tears and tremors faded, replaced by lax muscles and empty eyes, as Akira pulled away from reality. Hiding in his mind, among his Persona, just for a little while. Goro allowed it, didn’t pull him back yet. He needed the break.

It couldn’t last forever, though, and Goro gave him half an hour before gently drawing him back to reality. Akira shuddered and trembled and curled against him, but he ate some of the rice and a few more vegetables before he cringed away and Goro let it be. He threw the rest of the food into the fridge for later, then pulled Akira back to the bedroom. Neither of them had the energy for a nightly routine, and it wouldn’t kill them not to brush their teeth for a night.

Akira crawled under the covers first, back almost to the wall, and Goro followed. They pulled the covers tight around them, a cocoon of warmth and safety from the rest of the world, and tangled together as their magic curled under their skin.

Bless and Curse. Ironically perfect, seeing as they were each other’s only weakness.

Goro tucked Akira’s head under his chin, letting him hide from the world as he tugged the blanket up over their heads. The habit from earlier years, when it was the closest thing to  _ safety _ or  _ privacy _ they could manage. It had stuck with them, the security of hiding in the secret place under the blanket, where it was just them together and nothing could hurt them. A magic blanket, protecting them from monsters.

To a seven and eight year old, it was a solid truth in a world of lies. One they’d never quite broken from. Even if it was just imaginary- well, they knew now how powerful cognition was, and they’d seen first hand-  _ felt _ first hand- how easily the border between worlds was broken. The fact that they could summon their Persona in the real world was proof of that.

Not that Miyamoto or anyone else knew that. They knew what would happen if they did, and they weren’t willing to allow that.

“After… after it’s all over,” Akira whispered hesitantly, not looking up. “You’ll… you’ll stay, right? I know that once it’s over we won’t have to, but-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Goro said firmly, perhaps a bit more intensely than he meant to, but it made Akira relax. “I’m staying with you, no matter what.”

Akira let out a shuddering breath and nodded with relief. “Together, no matter what.”

That was how they’d survived this long, it’d take more than the end of their imprisonment to tear them apart.

One month and seven days.

They could make it that long.

Goro pressed his face to Akira’s hair and basked in the warmth as they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weak for Twins!AU, and this is a lovely bit of angst I've been playing around with for a while. :)


	13. Day 13 - Breathe/Oxygen Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the light of Namatame's information, the IT is nearly back to square one. Yu is shaken after the event's toll on Nanako and Dojima, and returning to the empty house alone reopens a wound he'd nearly forgotten about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I would finish this and I will, even if it takes me into next year to do it.
> 
> I’m so sorry Yu. :(
> 
> Chapter warnings: Murderous thoughts, Mentions of temporary child death, Abandonment issues, Nightmares, Hinted self-blame/self-hatred/suicide ideation, Anxiety, Depression, Averted panic attack, Fear of attachment

He was shaking as he leaned against the hospital wall.

_ She’s alive she’s alive she’s alive she’s alive- _

She’d died. He’d watched her die. He’d come so close to- he’d wanted to take it out on Namatame. He’d wanted so badly to lash out at him, the one at fault for her loss. He’d wanted to drag him over to the TV by his throat and slowly push him in. Wanted to see the fear in his eyes as he understood that he was being left to his deserved fate.

He hadn’t.

He’d wanted to.

But he knew it wasn’t right.

Wasn’t something she’d ever allow, for any reason.

And Yu had  _ hated _ him. He still did. Because- Because even if he’d been trying to help, even if it had been an accident, even if he hadn’t known-

He’d still taken Nanako away.  _ He’d still killed her _ , and never once checked that world just because people were being saved. Never checked it beforehand to see if it was  _ safe _ .

_ She’s alive _ .

That was what mattered. And no matter how much he may hate Namatame for being so  _ stupid _ and  _ reckless _ and  _ getting his little sister killed _ -

She was alive. Namatame wasn’t the murderer of Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi. He hadn’t tried to kill the others, just the opposite. This wasn’t over just because they’d found their kidnapper.

Tears burned in his eyes as he pressed his palms hard against them. Trying to hold it together. To stay composed. This wasn’t over; he couldn’t afford to break yet.

A hand on his shoulder made him startle- glancing up before he could think better of it, before he managed to fight back the tears, to find Yosuke with a pained expression on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he whispered back, voice barely there. “Thought you left.”

“No I- I was worried. About you. You… doing okay? Wait, that’s a dumb question. Nevermind. Uhhh…” He ran hand through his hair. “Ugh, I’m messing this all up.”

Yu swallowed and shook his head. “You’re fine. Thanks. I’m… okay. Frustrated, more than anything.” At Namatame, at himself, at the killer who still ran free. “Are you?”

Yosuke frowned, tightening his grip on Yu’s shoulder. “I’m- pissed. Honestly. It’s… even if it was an accident, and he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone- it’s such  _ bullshit _ . I mean- he never even thought to  _ check _ ?!”

It was a relief to hear someone else voice his thoughts, to know he wasn’t alone in his anger. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “It was careless at best. It-” he sighed. “I’m still angry about it, but at the same time we can’t afford to get caught up in it. The murderer is still out there, and if we get distracted by him again-”

“Yeah,” Yosuke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We can’t let this guy get away, no matter what. Hey, is Nanako…”

“She’s asleep right now, but her heart’s going strong. She’s not necessarily improving, but… she’s stable, at least.”

Yosuke let out a shuddering breath and nodded. “Well, that’s something at least.” He pulled out his phone to glance at the time. “C’mon, it’s getting late. We should probably head home for the night- before it gets any darker.”

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to go back to that  _ cold-dark-empty _ house- “Right,” Yu nodded with a sigh and a lingering glance at Nanako’s door. “Let’s go.” As they made their way through the empty halls he asked, “Any sign of Teddie?”

“… no.” Yosuke’s lips twisted in annoyance, but Yu could see the worry in his eyes. “That damn bear… the hell is he thinking just disappearing like this? Especially now, of all times…”

They fell quiet, shoulders brushing as they finally stepped outside into the cold, snowy night.

The fog hung heavy over everything, suffocating all light and sound.

It was still and quiet for a few moments, then Yosuke sighed and glanced over. “Well, see you tomorrow, I guess. We’re gonna hunt around town for clues, right?”

Yu nodded tiredly. “Yeah. Meet up at the hideout tomorrow morning.”

“You got it, partner,” Yosuke sent him a strained smile. Yu appreciated how much he was trying, even though it was obviously hard on him. He couldn’t muster the energy to smile back, but he did lean a bit to press their shoulders together for a moment. Yosuke’s smile twitched, tugging the slightest bit higher and turning the slightest bit more genuine, and- it made him feel a bit better. “Well, night!”

He pulled reluctantly away. “Goodnight, Yosuke. Be careful on your way home.”

“I will. You too, alright? Call me if something happens.”

“Right.”

They both hesitated for another moment, then reluctantly turned away from each other to head home.

It felt like an ache in his chest, pain and grief and loneliness threatening to swallow him in the fog with every quiet step further away.

The house was just as silent and dark as he’d expected, but that didn’t make it hurt any less as he stepped inside and pulled his shoes off. The air was still with the absence of Nanako’s bright warmth, Dojima’s solid presence.

Empty, cold, lifeless.

The way every apartment and house had been in every city in his entire life.

He was sick of being alone.

Yu dragged himself upstairs and to the bathroom for a short, hot, shower. Even that only warmed him for a few minutes, though, before it faded away and left him as chilled and exhausted as before.

Plugging his phone in, he collapsed into bed and closed his eyes, falling quickly into an uneasy sleep.

His dreams were restless; of running through fog-filled hallways in the TV World alone, always searching for something but never finding it. Of knowing he was alone, until suddenly he  _ knew _ he wasn’t, but no matter how much he spun around he couldn’t see the malicious presence hanging over him. Of finding the bodies- the murder victims, and then his friends, one after the next, knowing he was  _ too late-too late-too late- _ as they vanished in front of him- of moving on but finding an empty area, and the presence became overwhelming from behind and he spun around to find Izanagi lunging forward and as the blade pierced his chest-

-he sat up with a gasp, shaking and covered with sweat.

The dreams had felt so vivid, he could still feel the echo of cold steel sliding into his ribs, and he shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. The memory of his friends, lifeless and unmoving on the ground was… it was…

It had felt so real. Skin pale, chests unmoving, no heartbeats-

A sob tore its way from his chest and he curled over his knees to bury his face in them. The silence echoed deafeningly around him, every sound he made amplified by the lack of ambient noise. He was used to it but- but he  _ hated _ it. It felt like he was back in one of the many houses in the city, waiting for people who would never come, alone but for his own breaths in his ears.

It was too much. He needed- he needed something, anything-

Yu scrambled for his phone, and it wasn’t until the dial-tone was already ringing that he realized what he was doing. But before he could hang up, the phone beeped and Yosuke’s voice filtered through.

“Partner? What’s up, did something happen?”

_ Dammit _ . “I-” he faltered, flailing for an excuse. But he was tired and upset and couldn’t think clearly, so the truth was easiest.  _ A _ truth, at least. “Sorry, I… shouldn’t have called. Nothing’s wrong just…” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Nightmare, was half-asleep. Sorry.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . Yeah no, I get it. It’s-” he was broken off by a yawn. “-it’s fine. You alright?”

No. No he really wasn’t. He really- “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!”

He paused, about to hang up, hovering in uncertainty. “What?”

“Yu… are you actually okay? You don’t really sound like it.”

_ Dammit _ . Yosuke had always had an uncanny knack for reading him, and most of the time it made him happy, but sometimes it was  _ very inconvenient _ . “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“I… Partner, are you  _ sure _ ? You know you-”

Panic bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t- he couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t talk about this issue right now. Or ever. Not to other people. “I’m sure, Yosuke, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he continued with tonight’s theme of stupidity and just- hung up.

He’d have to apologize to Yosuke in the morning.

Yu jumped as his phone immediately lit up and started ringing again, staring down at it wide-eyed. That was… new. No one else had ever called him back after he hung up on them before.

No one else had ever cared enough before.

That thought made the panic jolt back to the surface- that fear of getting too close, of revealing too much- and he hit the deny call button, then held the power button until the screen went black.

He stared at the blank screen for a long moment then let out a quiet sob, flipping the phone closed and tossed it away, falling back onto the bed and throwing an arm across his eyes. The tears burned as they fell from his eyes, and his chest hitched desperately as he fought for air around the broken noises that escaped.

_ Stupid. Stupid, stupid,  _ **_stupid_ ** _. _

He shouldn’t have called. He should have hidden it better. He shouldn’t have hung up. He shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have done literally anything that he had done since waking up.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _ He’d probably hurt Yosuke’s feelings, or made him angry. The last thing he needed was to worry about Yu, on top of Teddie, and Nanako, and the murderer running around, and  _ everything else _ . Especially after  _ he’d _ woken him up in the middle of the night over a minor nightmare and the fear of being alone.

“You’re so  _ stupid _ ,” he whispered to himself, voice thick. The knot of anxiety in his chest was building as he thought of how Yosuke must feel, how he would react later. Whether he’d get mad, or just brush it off with a laugh like he usually did minor stuff like this- both options made him hurt, because he knew it made Yosuke hurt.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, mentally returning to that moment in his dream when Izanagi had stabbed him in his chest- ironically right where the ball of dread and guilt now rested. He’d kind of prefer being stabbed, honestly. Maybe it would dispel those feelings.

He almost missed the numbness of before. The haze of grey overtop of his world as he drifted from place to place, never allowing himself to get attached, never allowing others to turn his world colorful.

And now he was here, and somehow these people had turned his grey world bright. Except now it was slowly returning to grey; as the fog drifted in and stole more and more back and- he almost- almost regretted allowing himself to be pulled from it to begin with.

It just made this hurt more.

The absence, partly  _ his fault _ for getting so involved in this. Nanako had  _ died _ , even if she had come back, and Dojima was badly injured and stuck in the hospital in his attempt to find and save her. And if he hadn't gotten so heavily involved in the situation, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

Except- no.

Because the others would have  _ died _ without their intervention.

Because Nanako had been taken because of the Midnight Channel, because Namatame had panicked, but he hadn’t had anything to do with the note, that had just been a convenient ploy by the culprit-

… who knew the whole situation. Who knew who all was involved, and how they were involved. Who knew where he lived and what part he had played, and who Namatame had targeted and why. Who had to at least know what had happened to Nanako and Dojima, if he hadn’t somehow set it up himself.

Yu was abruptly aware of exactly how alone he really was.

Fighting back the immediate panic response, he took a long, slow breath in. Held it five seconds, and released it. Inhaled again. Let it out.  _ Breathe in, breathe out _ .

The panic calmed, but the paranoia didn’t. Not… necessarily a bad thing when hunting down a murderer, but it certainly didn’t feel pleasant.

He nearly jumped out of his skin as something light  _ clacked _ against the window. He sat up, wide eyed, and twitched as it happened again.

_ What _ -?

Slipping out of bed, he edged to the window and stealthily peered out the gap in the curtains. Below was a figure in a heavy winter jacket tossing a pebble up and down, shivering, hands twitching in a familiar nervous tic-

It took a moment to process that Yosuke had apparently come  _ by himself in the middle of the night _ to come check on him and-

Yu didn’t quite remember racing down the stairs and flipping the locks and reaching out to pull Yosuke inside with a startled yelp, but he apparently did because Yosuke was complaining about being yanked around as he pulled his jacket off to set it on the hook.

“What are you  _ doing here _ ?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Yosuke huffed, turning to glare at him. “You hung up on me, and I got worried!”

“That’s not…” Yu trailed off, confused and uncertain. “Why not just wait until in the morning?”

“Because you’re here by yourself, and you called in the middle of the night then hung up, then apparently turned your phone off, so I got worried! I mean, there’s no one else to check if something happens, right?”

Yu stared at him, something hot burning in his chest like a brand, and he wasn’t sure what it was except that he suddenly really needed to direct his attention elsewhere before he began crying. “Oh. I- Thanks. Sorry, I… it really wasn’t worth calling you over, and wasn’t worth you coming over.” He shook his head, reaching for his composure as he stepped past Yosuke. “Come on, I’ll make some tea. You look cold.” He carefully didn’t meet Yosuke’s concerned look as he moved to the kitchen. He just needed to pull himself back together. “It was dangerous to walk here by yourself in the middle of the night, especially in this fog, though.”

He twitched as two mugs were set on the counter beside him with firm  _ clanks _ , and made the mistake of glancing up to see Yosuke glaring at him. He shrugged.

“It  _ was _ . The killer is still around, and they obviously know who we are and what we’re doing if they were able to leave that note, so if he had decided to go after you-”

“Hang on,” Yosuke interrupted, horrified realization spreading across his face. “Partner- you’re right, he  _ does _ obviously know, but doesn’t that also mean that he probably knows you’re here by yourself?!”

Yu didn’t answer, focusing on making the tea, but knew the silence was answer enough.

Yosuke sucked in a shaky breath beside him. “ _ Shit, _ ” he choked out. “That’s- god, Yu-”

“He hasn’t gone after us so far, and he has no real  _ reason _ to yet, but-”

“ _ But! _ ” Yosuke protested. “ _ Namatame _ didn’t kill them!”

“We know that, and he knows that, but he has no way to know that we know. At this point, it’s still possible it will be pinned on Namatame, and the killer is probably banking on that.” Yu set the kettle on the stove and turned back to Yosuke. “We aren’t necessarily in any immediate danger. But it’s better to be cautious; like-”

“Not wandering around town at 3 am, yeah, or  _ being alone in your house after getting a threatening note _ .”

… point.

Yu sighed and inclined his head. “Yeah, probably. I was actually realizing that right before you got here.” He flashed him a wry smile. “You startled me.”

Yosuke didn’t laugh like he’d hoped, instead watching him with a worried look. “Partner…” he broke off, running his hand through his hair in a frustrated motion. “I- look, you can talk to me, alright? I know you prefer listening, and- and you’re always helping everyone else, but we’re here for you too.  _ I’m _ here for you. Even- even if you don’t like it, you can always ask me for help, you know.” He wasn’t looking at Yu, expression uncertain and embarrassed. Always second guessing himself, even when he spoke from the heart.

Swallowing, Yu looked away. It was- the tangled knot of feeling weighed heavily in his chest. “I know.” He didn’t know what else to say. It just- wasn’t that easy. Thankfully, the kettle chose that moment to go off and broke him from his reverie. He busied himself with preparing the tea, but that didn’t take long, and he soon found himself next to Yosuke under the kotatsu with the steaming tea in front of them.

It was quiet between them- tense, not quite awkward, but they both knew the unspoken words between them. Yu had always been the one to win at patience games, to wait the other party out until they talked, but apparently Yosuke had picked up on that and turned it around on him, because he showed no sign of breaking the silence anytime soon, even as he waited for the tea to cool. Yu had no idea how to feel about that.

He curled his hands around his cup, soaking up the warmth.

As the silence stretched, Yu found himself more helpless of what to say. He knew what Yosuke was after, but… he didn’t know how to talk about it. Didn’t know if he even wanted to. He hadn’t ever talked about it to anyone. Hadn’t ever had anyone to listen. “I-” Yosuke looked at him, and he shook his head. “I’m not sure… what to say.”

“I mean… what do you normally want us to say, when you’re trying to help?”

“I don’t. I just stay quiet and wait for people to say what they’re worried about. If I have a specific question I ask, but otherwise…”

Yosuke blinked and tilted his head. “So it’s not that you’re trying to help us with something specific, just… whatever we need?”

“Everyone is different.” Yu traced the lip of the cup with his thumb. “Everyone has different concerns and needs, so it’s easier to just listen and react rather than trying to guess. Most people can figure out what they need with just someone to listen to them as they work it out. Self-reflection is really the only thing a lot of people need to realize how to solve their problems, so… it’s not like I’m guiding people to some realization. They can do it themselves, with just a nudge here or there.”

“Huh…” Yosuke fidgeted with his sleeves. “So… like…” He frowned, searching for words. “Well, you said you had a nightmare. So… what happened?”

Yu winced, watching Yosuke run a nervous hand through his hair. It was clear he was out of his element; but then so was Yu. He wasn’t used to this side of it. It… wouldn’t hurt to try, right? He wasn’t sure. It was so late- or early- and he was so tired. He felt like an open nerve. This whole situation was new. And talking about it- the idea was both terrifying and strangely appealing.

Swallowing, he slowly described the dream. He saw Yosuke wince and shudder as he talked about finding their bodies, and his eyes widened when Yu explained how the dream ended.

“Dude, that’s… damn.” He shook his head. “Jeez, even thinking about it is terrifying. Hey, you don’t think… I mean, that couldn’t have  _ actually _ been, like, Izanagi, right?”

Yu shook his head, mentally tugging Izanagi to the forefront. He came easily, a reassuring presence resting in his mind, though even that wasn’t as soothing as usual. “No, it wasn’t. It was probably…” he trailed off. He didn’t really want to go into detail about that particular manifestation, but…

“Partner?” Yosuke leaned forward, elbows on the kotatsu as he watched him.

Sighing, Yu elaborated. “Considering the content of the dream, it was probably the manifestation of my feelings of failure. Nanako, and Uncle… they almost died. Nanako  _ did _ die, and I’ve wondered if I was at least partially responsible for it.”

As Yosuke opened his mouth to protest, he shook his head.

“I know. Nanako showed up on the Midnight Channel and was grabbed by Namatame, which we can’t influence, so it would have happened regardless of our efforts against the killer. I just…” he tightened his grip on the cup, shaking his head again. “It’s… frustrating. That they got hurt, almost died, and I couldn’t do anything. And then to come back here and be reminded of it all- it feels so empty without them, it’s cold and quiet and I was used to it before, when no one ever came home so it was always like that anyway, but it hasn’t been like that at all here, Nanako at least has always been here, and I forgot how lonely it was to be the only one in an empty house knowing that no one else is coming back.” His breath hitched.

“To- to feel like I’m a ghost that’s cut off from the rest of the world, just a bystander to everyone else’s lives that’ll fade from even that existence once I have to move again anyway-” He cut himself off, suddenly realizing that he was saying way too much, and took a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself. He was shaking, he realized, trembling, and feeling like he was about to cry.

Yosuke had sat up, eyes wide as he stared at Yu. “Partner…”

Yu looked away, staring hard at the wall and trying to steady his thrumming heart. Anxiety curled in his ribs and made it hard to breathe as he waited for Yosuke’s response. He’d been too honest, said too much, and now… Would Yosuke be angry that it sounded like Yu was doubting him, and the others? Hurt, that he didn’t trust them enough to not believe that they wouldn’t forget him like everyone else? Annoyed that he was unloading all this on him?

A hand grabbed his wrist, making him twitch and look over gingerly. A jolt of discomfort shot through him at the look on Yosuke’s face. Stricken, as though he was trying not to cry. “Yu, that’s… you never… said anything. I didn’t realize you felt like that. I mean, I knew you were trying to hang back a bit at first, and you still do that occasionally, where you pull away like, like you’re worried about being friends with us, but…” He broke off, swiping at his eyes. “But you never said you were worried that we’d just forget you after you had to leave. I- I mean, you’re still here, with us, so…”

Yu swallowed and impulsively flipped his hand over to grab Yosuke’s, needing something to ground himself. He could feel himself spiralling, the grey creeping along the edges of his vision like the fog he was coming to despise so much. “I… didn’t mean to. I wasn’t planning on getting this close to you all. I learned years ago that… that all it did was hurt more, and didn’t help in the long run. But then we found the TV World and you just started calling me partner and… suddenly I couldn’t. You, and Chie, and Yukiko, and Teddie and Nanako- you brought color to a world of grey and… I couldn’t stay away. Couldn’t keep my distance. And as we saved the others and they joined us and I started understanding everyone…” He was distantly aware of the tears spilling from his eyes, but he couldn’t stop them. “I couldn’t, and it scared me because I’ll still have to leave at the end of the year, and I’ll be alone in empty apartments again and… I’m so tired of being alone and forgotten all the time.”

Yosuke’s hand was abruptly jerked from his hold, and he had a moment to wonder if he’d pushed too far, said too much, and now Yosuke was leaving- before Yosuke was rounding the table and dragging him into a crushing hug.

His hands gripped the back of Yu’s shirt as he pulled him close, chin tucked over his shoulder and Yu’s face pressed into his shoulder. Yu stilled, blinking in startled confusion, but slowly brought his arms up around Yosuke’s torso as he processed. He wasn’t sure who was trembling more- himself or Yosuke- but Yosuke was warm and solid against him. It was comfortable in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever, and he buried his face in Yosuke’s shoulder as the sobs tore themselves from his throat.

Yosuke couldn’t have been comfortable, but he didn’t complain. Only held Yu tighter as he cried himself out.

Even after his tears had stopped and his breathing had steadied, Yosuke didn’t push him away. He allowed Yu to stay there, curled against him and soaking in the warmth of his presence, silence broken by their breathing.

“Sorry,” Yu murmured. “I shouldn’t be pushing all this off on you.”

He tried to pull back, but Yosuke didn’t let him. He tightened his arms. “ _ Don’t _ . Partner- I meant it, earlier, when I said you could lean on me. Don’t apologize for it, I want to help. And I… I didn’t realize how much you were hurting. I’m really, really glad we’ve been able to help, even without realizing it, but I wish you’d said something.”

Yu sighed. “It hasn’t been a problem before. It just hit me out of nowhere after I woke up. Most of the time I don’t realize I’m doing it.”

Yosuke was quiet for a moment, then squeezed him. “We’re not gonna forget you. Even after you leave, we’ve been through way too much together to let you go so easily, Leader. Hell, I’ll call you every day if I need to. Get the others to, too.”

Huffing out a small laugh, Yu shook his head. “You’ll run up your phone bill.”

“So what?” Yosuke scoffed, pulling back to grin at him. “You’re way more important than that.”

Yu smiled back hesitantly, the knot in his chest finally easing slightly. “Thanks, partner.”

Seeing Yosuke light up finally chased away the worst of the shadows, grey giving way to color once more. For now, at least.

Then Yosuke yawned, breaking the moment, and Yu glanced at the clock. It was edging towards four o’clock, and he quickly drained the now-cool tea. “Come on, we should head to bed. You can stay the rest of the night.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

They dropped the cups in the sink to deal with in the daylight, and headed up to Yu’s room. Normally one of them would take the couch, but with the fragile conversations of the evening still lingering in the dark corners of the house, they both dropped onto Yu’s futon without complaint.

With Yosuke’s warmth curled next to him, his quiet breaths breaking through the silence, Yu found himself relaxing as he faded back into a more peaceful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I finally found Yu’s internal character voice, and it’s a relief because I’ve always loved him but never been able to write him from his perspective. But he suddenly flopped onto my bed next to me as I was writing this, around the post-dream spiral.
> 
> Yu, facedown on the bed in the Exhausted-With-Life-Position: So. How’s that projection coming along?
> 
> Me: … oh.
> 
> Anyway, I’m super proud of how this came out, and I think this is the best I’ve ever written him.


	14. Day 14 - Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shido's Palace almost ends in disaster - thankfully the whole team is there in the aftermath to pick up the pieces.
> 
> Aka: Polythief fluff/angst because I'm still mad at Atlus.
> 
> So salty.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Burns, Permanent injury, Scars, Near-death experiences, Self-deprecation (because Ryuji), Lots of crying (from everyone else)

Ryuji watched with relief as his teammates climbed into the lifeboat. He’d made it, and now they’d be fine.

Granted, he had no idea how the hell he was gonna get down, but right now he just wanted to take a second to breathe-

A glimpse of familiar white and red caught his attention from the corner of his eye, and made his head snap around.

That wasn’t possible- there was no way, he was  _ dead _ -

His heart dropped like a stone as he found what had caught his eye, and  _ it was _ . In the water, near the sinking ship, with other debris floating around,  _ Akechi _ was-

Before he could register what he was doing, Ryuji swung himself towards the angled ship, sliding down the incline. A glance towards where the figure was floating helped him angle himself to where he’d need to jump. He tensed as he suddenly felt the metal beneath him vibrate in a noticeable way, the same way some of their bombs did before-

Slamming his feet down, he kicked off of the ship just as it began exploding from below him. But it wasn’t enough, he wasn’t far enough away to escape the flames entirely. He brought his arms and legs up to cover his face, clenching his teeth against the pain as he felt the heat searing around him, and then he was free of it and falling through the air towards the water below. He once again found that figure in the water, and reached for his phone just before he struck.

He’d have to hope the water resistance on it was good enough, because if it died and he couldn’t activate the app they were both screwed.

At least the others would be fine, though.

Spluttering as he broke the surface, Ryuji grit his teeth against the pain of salt water on open wounds and pushed himself through the water. He could feel the undertow trying to drag him down- sinking ships were like goddamn  _ magnets _ to anything in the water around them, he’d done enough research after awakening Captain Kidd to know that- but like hell was he gonna give up now. If he could just reach him-

A broken crate was in the way, and when he shoved it aside he saw him. Eyes widening, Ryuji kicked forward and reached out to him. He managed to grab his uniform and yank him over just as the ship lit up with explosions. Ryuji was blinded by the giant ball of fire that spread out- and even so far away he could feel the heat and now flaming debris were falling around them and he fumbled with his phone scrambling for the app just as there was a shift in the water and they were yanked under and-

-they hit the grass with a  _ thud _ , knocking the wind from Ryuji’s chest. He lay there for a moment, wheezing and hurting, before he remembered the body next to him and sat up with a gasp of pain. He was still soaked through, even in his normal clothes, and the salty cloth chafed and  _ burned _ and freezing December air somehow made it  _ worse _ , making him clench his teeth and try to ignore it as he crawled to the unmoving form next to him.

“Oh god, please don’t be dead-” he muttered frantically. He should have been, Oracle had  _ seen _ his signal go dark, but the Metaverse was weird sometimes. Maybe- Maybe-

Akechi let out a soft breath as Ryuji rolled him over, and he let out a low, shuddering breath of his own in relief.

And then he saw the burns.

Ryuji froze, staring in horror at the seared flesh crawling up the side of his neck and face, reaching under his clothes. Ryuji hadn’t been paying attention in the water, and of course Akechi’s real clothes were fine if also wet, but if he’d been trapped in the engine room when the ship had begun exploding, then the fact that he was in the open water while the ship was going under-

He was gonna be sick.

Ryuji snapped his head away and took a deep breath, trying to calm his writhing stomach while his whole body shivered. This was messed up. He needed-

Akechi needed medical attention now. He needed to find the others. Akira’s shady doctor friend, and Boss, and Makoto’s sis, would probably be able to help. He just needed to find-

“ _ Ryuji!!! _ ”

Ann was a  _ goddamned angel _ . “ANN!” He shouted back, as loud as he could. Hopefully it was late enough that no authorities would come snooping around, because he really could not explain this. Staggering to his feet, Ryuji stumbled towards the wall next to the road. They sounded like they were nearby, so-

“Ryuji!”

“Ryuji!”

He reached the wall just as they rounded the far corner, and he saw the sheer  _ relief _ light their faces as they saw him. Said relief was almost immediately replaced by concern when they realized he was hurt, but he cut them off before they could start fussing. “I’m fine, but-”

“You’re hurt!” Makoto scowled at him as Ann and Akira both immediately reached for him when he swayed.

“Not bad, he’s worse. He needs-”

“He?” Yusuke asked with a frown, and he felt Akira still against him.

Ryuji gritted his teeth, pulling backwards. “Akechi’s alive, I saw him in the water right after I nabbed the boat. But he’s seriously hurt, I was scared he was actually dead at first, and he’s not but-”

Akira cut him off before he could start rambling in his panic. “Where?”

Ryuji jerked his head back, leaning against Ann so Akira could rush over. He hesitated, like he didn’t want to leave Ryuji, but he flicked a glance at Ann and pulled away. The rest of them followed, Makoto and Haru one step behind Akira while Yusuke shifted to take his place by Ryuji’s side.

“Oh god.” He heard Akira mutter.

“ _ Oh my god _ .” Makoto choked a moment later, and Haru inhaled sharply.

Ryuji winced and limped closer. Ann tightened her grip around his waist, making him hiss in pain as it scraped against his own burns. She flinched away with a distressed look, and he sent her a weak smile.

It had caught Akira’s attention though, and his dark eyes darkened further. He straightened and flashed his gaze across them. “Makoto, Futaba, call Sae and Boss, inform them of the situation. Makoto, ask if she can come pick us up, we obviously can’t take him on the subway like this. Ann, Yusuke, full treatment for everyone will have to wait, but get some burn cream and bandages on Ryuji’s wounds.” As Ryuji opened his mouth to protest, Joker sent him a sharp look and he bit it back. “I’ll call Takemi. Haru, Morgana, could you do the same with Akechi’s? I’ll help as soon as I’m done.”

“Of course,” Haru said firmly, reaching for her bag as the others either did the same or reached for their phones.

Ann and Yusuke helped him settle to the ground, and Ryuji would absolutely deny the relief that came from it. His leg was already starting to ache something fierce, and everything kind of hurt.

“Shirt off,” Yusuke murmured as he went through his bag. “A shame we don’t have spare clothes, you’re soaked through.

Ryuji hesitated, fingering the hem of his jacket as he shivered against the freezing wind. He could already feel how bad they were, and he really didn’t want to see the others get upset over them.

“ _ Ryuji _ ,” Ann said, voice edged with tears and frustration. “The fact that you’re trying to hide them only makes me  _ more _ worried!”

He shook his head, immediately trying to downplay it. “It’s not that they’re that bad, I just don’t wanna make you even more upset, y’know? They really aren’t that bad.” The look everyone in earshot sent him said they saw right through his bullshit, and he winced. “Alright, fine… just… don’t get upset.” He tugged his jacket off and heard more than one person hiss at the sight of his bare arms. Then he set his jaw and painstakingly peeled his shirt away from his skin and over his head, and heard multiple distressed noises.

“Oh god,  _ Ryuji _ ,” Ann whispered, and he saw the tears gathering in her eyes.

“Ann, seriously, it’s fine, I’ve had way worse, you don’t gotta cry over it!”

“I thought you were  _ dead,  _ you idiot! And now I know you’re not, but you’re hurt, and-” she broke down into sobs, burying her face in her hands. He swallowed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to keep ignoring the tightness in his own chest.

With a soft sigh, he reached out and looped an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the sting and appreciating her warmth. Seriously, it was freezing out here. “Hey, I’m fine. Really.”

She pressed her forehead to his shoulder. “I was so scared,” she whispered. “It was like Akira all over again, and I was so scared that you weren’t coming back.”

A shuddering breath escaped his chest against his will, and he pressed his face to her hair. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I figured it was the only way. And…” he glanced towards the still body on the ground a little ways away. “I mean, despite everything, if there was even a chance… I couldn’t just leave him, you know?”

Ann shuddered and pulled back with a nod. “I get it,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I just… we’ve had a lot of close calls, but…” She cut herself off, shaking her head firmly. “Doesn’t matter, what’s done is done, and you’re here. That’s all that matters. So.” She dragged her bag around and dug in it. “Let’s get you patched up before you add some new scars to your collection.” She eyed his shivering. “And before you freeze to death.”

“Meh, just makes me look more badass.” He grinned at her rolled eyes, relaxing the slightest bit at the banter. There wasn’t anything they could do about his clothes, though, so hopefully someone got here before he got frostbite.

“You already cut quite the figure,” Yusuke mused as he uncapped the cream. “I hardly think you need more additions to make you stand out.”

Ryuji blinked, staring hard at him. “You know, I can’t tell if half the shit out of your mouth is an insult or a compliment.”

Ann snorted, pulling out a roll of bandages. “Depends on the framing, I guess. Hold still.”

Setting his jaw, Ryuji rode the attention out. It hurt like hell- burns were the  _ worst _ , seriously- but by the time they were done the medicine had begun its work and the pain was fading bit by tiny bit as he pulled his clothes back on.

Whatever that doctor put in her medicine had one hell of a kick.

Akechi, on the other hand…

Ryuji swallowed as he looked over to where Makoto had joined the other three. They all looked worried, and it made his stomach twist because when they all looked  _ that _ worried it meant there was something seriously wrong.

Granted, he’d  _ seen _ those burns, and… burns could scar badly enough anyway, but for them to be that severe- those types of injuries were permanent.

(He tried not to think of the vicious scar on his leg from the reconstructive surgery. Of how it still ached and hurt when the weather changed or when he was on it too long. Tried not to think of how it was one more parallel on top of half a dozen others between them.)

They all looked up as Futaba burst out with a distressed, “Wait,  _ what _ ?!”

“What’s wrong?” Makoto asked, half rising.

“Some guys busted into Leblanc and took Sojiro to the station. He’s fine, by the way,” she added hastily at their alarmed expressions. “He’s just gonna take a bit longer to get here cause he has to get home to get the car.”

Akira frowned, but slowly nodded. “As long as he’s alright. Sae’s on her way, so we’ll have to split into two teams. Ryuji, Akechi, me, and one other person will head back with Sae first. Takemi’s expecting us. The other four will have to stay out of sight and wait for Boss.”

“Makoto and I would be the most help,” Futbaba muttered, frowning. “But she’s got a steadier head in a crisis, so I’ll stay here and wait for Sojiro.”

Akira nodded and glanced at the others. “Be careful, and don’t be seen. We have the treasure so the change of heart  _ should _ go through, but even if it does…”

“We’re close enough to his location that his lackeys could cause trouble if they spotted us,” Haru finished. He inclined his head.

“I’ll stay here and help keep an eye out,” Morgana volunteered. “I won’t be much help with medical stuff anyway, but I can tell when people are around.”

“We’ll leave that to you, then,” Makoto said.

Ryuji looked at Ann, where she was biting her lip with a furrowed brow. “You gonna be alright?”

She shot him a dirty look. “ _ I’m _ fine, it’s you, and Akechi too, that I’m worried about.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable with her concern and trying not to let his teeth chatter. “I mean, they hurt but it ain’t too bad. Even if they do scar a bit, it’s not gonna be anywhere near as bad as my leg or anything.”

“That’s not-” She broke off, frustration in her voice. “ _ Ugh _ , you don’t get it.”

“Ryuji, brushing off everything that doesn’t maim you as ‘not too bad’ is what worries us so much,” Makoto sighed. “The idea that if something doesn’t cripple you then it’s not a problem is…” she struggled for words, “-not conducive to your health.”

Well when she put it like  _ that _ .

“That’s not what I meant…” he mumbled, ruffling his hair. “I just don’t like you guys worrying. ‘specially when it doesn’t actually hurt that bad.”

“Too bad,” Akira deadpanned, making Ryuji rear up.

“You’re one to talk! You’re even worse than I am!”

He looked away pointedly. “I’m not.”

More than one person made an outraged protest at that.

“This coming from the guy who strong-armed his way out of Leblanc and us into coming within three days of getting back from being  _ literally tortured _ ,” Futaba said flatly. “ _ With _ broken ribs!”

“Metaverse healing was faster.”

“Except it can only do so much when discussing injuries sustained in the real world,” Morgana sighed. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. We’re teammates, of course we’re going to worry. Isn’t that what you said?” He tail swished at the pointed reference, and Ryuji nodded with a sigh.

“Alright, I get it. Doesn’t mean I gotta like it, though.”

“Tough luck.” Ann jabbed him in his shoulder, careful to avoid the bandages and taking note of his increasing trembling. “So when is Sae-san supposed to be here?”

“Anytime within the next couple of-” Makoto was cut off by a silver car pulling up to the curb across the street. “-minutes. Akira.”

They carefully lifted Akechi, and Sae-san was waiting with the door open when they got across the street. Her face pinched when she saw him, and Ryuji noticed her hand tighten on the door. “Even being told how bad he was, I wasn’t expecting…”

Makoto flashed her a pained look as Akira carefully settled in the car behind him. Ryuji slipped into the other side, relieved at the car’s heater, leaving the front to Makoto, and turned to Ann and the others. “See ya’ back at Leblanc. Be careful, yeah?”

Ann nodded, then abruptly leaned forward to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be a dumbass and get yourself hurt worse before we get there.” He flushed, startled at the bold action. They’d all been trying to keep their weird polycule relationship lowkey around adults they knew- which definitely included Makoto’s sister. Then her words registered and he sent her an offended look.

“The hell do you expect me to do, throw myself out of the car while it’s moving?”

“Well, knowing you.” She laughed at his scowl. “We’ll be careful too, and Boss should be here soon.”

“Lay low until he does,” Makoto nodded. “We’ll see you all back at the cafe.”

As they pulled away, Ryuji turned to help Akira hold Akechi still. Makoto and Sae were murmuring quietly in the front, and he found himself tracing the edges of Akechi’s bandages with his eyes. “Think he’ll be alright?” he asked quietly.

Akira’s gaze was downcast as his thumb brushed along Akechi’s sleeve. “I think he’ll survive. After that, though…”

Ryuji knew what he meant. Akechi hadn’t exactly been making an attempt to survive that engine room at the end. He might not thank them for saving him, especially…

“Those burns are gonna scar, aren’t they?”

Akira swallowed, flicking a glance towards the bandages on his face. “… yeah. They are. Even if we took him to Mementos…”

Even a Diarahan could only heal so much, and the severity of those… hell, even Ryuji’s would have to be mostly healed the conventional way.

Ryuji swallowed and looked out the window, watching the city lights pass. He had a lot of mixed feelings about Akechi, and he couldn’t say he liked him, but this… he wouldn’t wish something like this on anyone.

Takemi was waiting just outside Leblanc, and her lips pursed as she took in Ryuji and Akechi. “Get him upstairs and lay him down, mind the glass.”

What?

Ryuji’s eyes widened when they got inside and saw the mess. “The hell?!”

“Apparently when Shido’s men came to get Boss, they also made a mess about it.” Sae-san grimaced. “I was at the courthouse when they got me so at least my office is fine, but it seems this place wasn’t so lucky.”

“Shit,” Ryuji hissed. “Those bastards.”

Akira grimaced and glanced around. “Akechi first, then we’ll clean this place up.”

Ryuji scowled but nodded. At least Akechi was unconscious, so their clumsy attempts at getting him up the stairs didn’t hurt him more. When Ryuji tried to slip back downstairs while Akira was settling him on the bed, however he found Takemi in front of him with crossed arms and a raised brow.

“Er-”

She looked pointedly at the stool by the table. “Shirt and pants off. Sit.”

He debated for a long moment about arguing, but the look in her eyes honestly kinda scared him, so he peeled his outer layers off and sat down.

Her exam made him wince; after she peeled the now-damp bandages away she spent several minutes walking in a circle around him occasionally poking at his injuries, before pulling out another container of cream and making quick work of spreading it on all his burns.

“Yours aren’t as bad as his,” she glanced to where Akira had removed the bandages, “so just keep the burns loosely covered with bandages and don’t break any blisters that form and you should heal on your own. The cream will help speed it up, and I can get you pain medication if you need it.” Her face turned serious. “He, on the other hand, should really go to the hospital. But,” she continued as Akira opened his mouth to respond. “I’m guessing that that’s not any more an option for him than it was for you.”

“In a few days, after Shido’s change of heart, maybe.” Akira ran an anxious hand through his hair. “Until then, there’s a chance Shido or his conspiracy will try to… remove him from the equation.”

A nice way of saying they would send the yakuza to off him, Ryuji supposed.

Takemi grimaced. “I figured. That’s going to make this difficult, because those are bad enough that it needs specialized attention. I’m glad I was warned, at least.” She turned to address Ryuji. “Can you send Makoto-chan up? She helped with Akira’s wounds, so she’s familiar with my methods. You-” her gaze snapped to Akira, “-can help me get started.”

Ryuji beat a hasty retreat downstairs to get Makoto, guiltily relieved that he wasn’t expected to help. He didn’t know the first thing about burns, all his medical knowledge was sports-based, and he wouldn’t even know where to start. Also, that doctor scared him.

He sent Makoto up, then picked up where she had left off sweeping up glass and spilled beans. Sae-san had apparently headed back to the courthouse to keep an eye on the situation, so he was alone until the others got back with Boss.

He rolled his shoulders, shifting his shirt to a more comfortable position with a wince as the wet cloth chafed, and got started. By the time the others arrived, the worst of it had been carefully bagged up and put in a marked pile, and he’d moved on to trying to see what could be salvaged.

Boss took one look at him and shooed him away from behind the counter to sit at a booth. “Honestly, between you and the kid… I’m not expecting you to help out when you’re injured.”

Ryuji shrugged with discomfort. “I didn’t wanna just sit doing nothing, though, and I can’t help out up there,” he jerked his head towards the stairs. “So I figured I’d finish up down here.” He shifted uncomfortably as his clothes stuck to his skin. At least it was warm in Leblanc, but-

“You didn’t get new clothes from Akira?” Futaba asked, plopping down across from him as Boss started counting jars. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He was busy helping the doctor.” He shivered- and not from the cold this time. “And honestly, she scares me  _ way _ too much to interrupt.”

Futaba snorted. “Fair. Hey Ann, your boyfriend needs a space heater!”

“He’s your boyfriend too,” Ann said as she wandered over. “Why don’t you do it?”

“You’re the one with the fire aspect. Also, he’s wet. And tech does not like getting wet.”

There was a joke in there that he was too scared to make with Boss  _ right there _ , but he was surprised she didn’t follow up with it.

“I can go borrow some of Akira’s clothes,” Haru volunteered, standing. “I want to check on how Akechi-kun is doing anyway.”

“If you wanna,” Ryuji said with sheepish appreciation. “I’d appreciate it.”

She flashed a smile and dropped a kiss on his temple, then hurried up the stairs. Ryuji blinked after her. “Do I have a ‘kiss me’ sign attached somewhere? Second time it’s happened in the last hour.”

Futaba sent him a flat look. “Yeah, it’s called ‘you almost died saving our lives and we’re both grateful you survived and concerned you’re injured’ syndrome. We’re all infected. Unfortunately, you seem to be immune.”

Ann snorted and sat next to him, not quite touching him- though whether it was because he was still damp or that he was injured, he wasn’t sure. Haru returned a moment later with wet eyes, and he and Ann were both on their feet in an instant to press close.

Her smile was watery as she offered him the dry clothes and leaned against Ann, grief swimming among her tears. Her feelings on Akechi were even more complex than Ryuji’s, but she was also deeply empathetic and hated to see other people in pain.

(Well. Mostly. He’d heard her talking to Makoto about Sugimura and- well. Ryuji had a type, and that conversation had made him realize that Haru did, in fact, settle comfortably into it alongside Ann and Makoto. Then he’d seen her fighting Shadows and he was gone for good.)

He took the clothes and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her cheek in return. Her smile tugged up gratefully, and she allowed Ann to pull her into the booth to cuddle while Ryuji slipped into the bathroom to change.

The feeling of dry clothes was a relief, even if they were a bit tight on his slightly buffer frame. He folded up his own clothes up haphazardly to run to the laundromat while they waited for Akira to finish up.

Pausing in front of the mirror, Ryuji took in his appearance and frowned.

He looked like shit.

The bandages wrapped down his arms and peeked up above the borrowed shirt, and there were mild bruises lingering from the earlier fight against Shido. His eyes were glazed with exhaustion, and as he watched he could see the tell-tale miniscule rocking of someone fighting to stay on his feet.

He hadn’t even noticed; no wonder the others were worried.

It wasn’t until he felt the shift in gravity that he realized he’d leaned too far forward, and he slapped his hands down on the sink to catch himself, quietly swearing as he knocked the plastic cup to the ground with a clatter. He leaned down to scoop it up, sighing at the knock on the door.

“Ryuji?”

“I’m fine, Yusuke,” he said. “Just lost my balance and knocked the cup off.”

“Are you decent?”

“Huh? Well, yeah, but-”

The door opened and Yusuke stepped through with a concerned furrow to his brow.

Ryuji rolled his eyes and gestured at himself. “See? I’m still alive and kickin’. I’m  _ fine _ .”

“You are not,” Yusuke refuted quietly, stepping forward to gently wrap delicate fingers around his wrist and pull his hand up. It was trembling. “Much as you always tell me, we are here for your benefit as you are ours. If you wish for, or  _ require _ ,” his blue eyes flashed with that fiery passion Ryuji loved to watch so much, “-assistance, you need only ask.”

Ryuji stared at him for a long moment, then slowly exhaled and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the artist’s shoulder as he set the cup back in its place. “‘m really fine. Just effin’ tired. It’s been a long day, and it’s all kinda gone to shit. I figured we’d send the card and then do what we always do, but… that fight was  _ hell _ , and then the palace started collapsin’ and we had to find a way out and I saw Akechi…” He sighed as Yusuke’s hand wove into his hair. “I’m just tired.” A bone-deep exhaustion that he hadn’t registered until now. The adrenaline was finally wearing off, he supposed.

“A shared sentiment, I assure you,” Yusuke agreed quietly, deep voice as soothing as ever. “Although the bathroom is not a good place to fall asleep.”

“Nope, it ain’t.” Ryuji reluctantly pulled away and collected his clothes, but as he turned to leave found Yusuke even closer than he had been, studying him. “What?”

He shook his head. “Merely… observing. Every time I think I’ve captured the essence of your visage in my mind, I find something new.” He reached out, the pads of his fingers skimming the ridge of Ryuji’s eye. “That look in your eye earlier- I thought I’d seen the full depths of your strength and determination before, but you once again proved me wrong.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss just below Ryuji’s brow, murmuring with something like pain, “Although we nearly lost you for it.”

Ryuji let out a shaky breath, trembling more from the compliments and praise and Yusuke’s tone than exhaustion now. “I’m here, though. I made it out.” His other hand rested on Yusuke’s other shoulder, steadying himself.

“Barely,” Yusuke sighed. “And not for the first time. Still, it would hardly be righteous to rebuke you when you so daringly saved us. Thus, I am simply grateful that you did return to us. Mostly in one piece, even.”

He rolled his eyes and nudged the artist’s shoulder fondly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m hurt and you guys are gonna be fussing over me. Come on, if we stay in here too long they’re gonna start making assumptions.”

“Assumptions?” Yusuke tilted his head, puzzled as Ryuji stepped past him. “I hardly see what they could assume, unless they believe you to have collapsed.”

A laugh bubbled out of Ryuji’s chest. “Nevermind, it’s a joke.” He glanced back and shook his head at Yusuke’s bewildered expression, flush rising to his cheeks at having to explain it. “Sex, Yusuke.”

His expression lightened in understanding. “Ah, I see. That would hardly be my first thought, but we’ve long established that I view carnal pleasures differently than most. I  _ have _ heard jokes of the sort, however.”

Ryuji sighed, but his chest was warm as Yusuke followed him out. Typical.

Futaba glanced up and wiggled her brows, but Ryuji shook his head. “I  _ just _ made the joke, then had to explain it ‘cause he didn’t get it.”

She rolled her eyes. “Typical. Just ‘cause you’re ace doesn’t mean you can’t get the jokes, Inari! I mean, I’m demi and I know ‘em  _ all _ .”

“Not all of us are as depraved as you,” he sniffed back.

“ _ Excuse you?!” _

Ryuji laughed tiredly and leaned against the booth by her as they started up their usual arguments. Ann and Haru were curled up together in the booth opposite of her, almost dozing as Morgana rested in Haru’s lap, but they were both awake enough to smile at Futaba and Yusuke’s bickering.

It ended as it usually did, with the two of them turning away from each other with upturned noses and hidden smiles. As though they didn’t enjoy arguing with each other over the most ridiculous shit.

“So forgetting Inari,” Futaba glanced up at Ryuji and pointed to some text on her laptop’s screen. “Can you check this out? It’s a reference to a show, but there’s two it could be and I want a second opinion before I start roasting this asshole on his shit taste in waifus.”

Snorting out a laugh, Ryuji braced his hand on the table and leaned over to look. He’d gotten three words in when he felt lips on his chin and blinked. When he looked down Futaba was hiding her face in her hands with red ears. He huffed out another laugh and leaned over to press a quick kiss to the top of her head, then finished reading. “I’m pretty sure that’s a  _ Violet Vanguard  _ reference.”

She perked up, cheeks still flushed. “I  _ knew _ it! Heheheh, I’m gonna  _ shred _ this dumbass. ‘Harumi is the ultimate waifu’  _ my ass _ . Everyone knows Akano is the best.”

He watched her type away furiously for a moment, then moved to flop down next to Haru. She pressed their legs together, but otherwise didn’t move as he leaned back against the booth, mindful of the ache and chafe of the burns, and closed his eyes.

He was exhausted all of a sudden, one of their day-long stints in Mementos tired, and the normal sounds of the cafe soothed him. Boss sorting through jars of ingredients, Futaba typing away, Yusuke’s pencil sketching in his notepad, Morgana’s purring, Makoto’s footsteps on the stairs-

Sitting up abruptly, Ryuji swiveled around to watch her come into view. She was pale, worry etched into the lines on her face, but she seemed more tired than anything. There was no fear or panic, so there was probably nothing wrong- beyond the obvious.

“How is he?” he asked carefully.

Makoto closed her eyes and let out a long, quiet breath. “He’ll survive,” she answered eventually. “And unless they get infected, it’s doubtful they’ll cause any major health complications, but…” Her arms curled around herself and she looked down. “They’ll scar permanently and… there’s a high chance he’ll lose vision in his left eye.”

They all flinched at that, and Ryuji shuddered and rubbed his leg. “ _ Dammit _ ,” he hissed quietly, and found Morgana hopping into his lap. He scratched behind his ear and tried to calm down. “And there’s nothing the doc can do?”

“Not in this case,” Makoto sighed, brushing a hand across her eyes. “The burns are too severe, even if we did take him to a hospital.”

Ryuji couldn’t even imagine. His leg was bad enough, but to lose an eye- he shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about it. “But… he’ll survive.”

“Yes. He will survive.”

“Well, that’s something,” Boss said, crossing his arms. “The kid?”

“Takemi’s giving Akira the rundown on burn care, they’ll be down in a minute. He’s…” she sighed. “I don’t know how he’s handling it, he’s actively trying to hide it so I know he’s upset, but…”

Ryuji grimaced and nodded. Akira did that sometimes- just went totally blank in an attempt to keep anyone from reading him. Not always when he was upset, he did it a lot when he was lying, too, but he did it a lot when he was upset and didn’t want to show it.

He wasn’t holding his breath on Akira handling this well. Of all of them, he’d been the closest to Akechi and had taken his apparent death the hardest, no matter how mixed the feelings involved.

Makoto sighed and leaned next to Ryuji. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on the situation. A lot is riding on Shido’s change of heart, and until then, at least, there isn’t much else we can do.” He reached over to squeeze her hand, and she smiled tiredly down at him, then pulled it up to press a quick kiss on the back of his wrist just below the bandages.

He sighed, even as a small smile curled at his lips. “I’m  _ fine _ .” He squeezed her hand, though.

She swallowed, and he stiffened as tears suddenly sprang into her eyes.

“H-Hey-” Morgana leapt up to the table as Ryuji stood up to face her. “Makoto?”

“I- I’m sorry-” she choked, releasing him to bring her hands to her eyes. “I just- it’s  _ awful _ . And- And it was so close- I mean- We all thought-” she sniffed, scrubbing at her eyes as her shoulder hitched in a rare moment of vulnerability. “We came back, and you weren’t there. We thought we’d lost you too. That- That you  _ died _ . And you didn’t, and I was so, so glad but- but it was so close, and looking at him, I realized how close it was, and how you could have- even if you’d still come back, you could have-”

She broke down, words failing as she sobbed, and Ryuji found tears pricking in his own eyes as he pulled her into a tight hug and pressed his face to her hair.

He knew, he  _ knew _ , and he’d been trying not to think about it ‘cause it scared the hell out of him. He’d joked to Ann about the scars, but the truth of it was he didn’t want more of those scars. They were signs he’d survived, sure, that the world had kicked him down and he’d spit in its face as he’d gotten back up, but they were also reminders that he’d hurt. And all it would do was remind the others of it, and hurt them all over again.

To know how bad it could have been-

Ryuji squeezed her tight. “I get it,” he mumbled. “I’m okay, though. It was close, but I mean… wasn’t the first time, yeah? We’ve been close before. We always pull through, though.”

“I’m just scared that one day we won’t,” she whispered back.

There wasn’t anything he could say to that without lying through his teeth, so he just held her tighter and let her cry it out.

Considering it was Queen, he wasn’t worried. She’d take this, turn it into more steel plating on her backbone, and come back swinging. She was badass like that. For now, though, he didn’t mind holding her while she worked through it.

When she finally stepped away with a sniff, he sent her a weak smile. She sighed and pulled his hand to her again, this time pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Stop almost dying for us,” she ordered. “You’ll give us all heart attacks.”

“Understood, but I make no promises.”

She glared at him, but he wasn’t gonna back down on this. He knew they hated it, but they’d all taken hits for each other. He just took the biggest ones, ‘cause he knew he could. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose, he just… knew what needed to be done and made the leap.

Makoto closed her reddened eyes with a small sigh. “I guess that’s the best I can hope for.”

Ryuji was saved from responding by the arrival of Takemi and Akira. She waved tiredly at them all and glanced at Boss. “I don’t want to risk trying to move him, so I’ll be back tomorrow, around noon maybe, to check on him.”

Boss nodded. “I’ll have to restock what I lost, but I still have more than enough to run. I’ll have a cup of coffee and a plate of curry waiting on you.”

She flashed a grateful smirk at him. “I appreciate it. I’m heading out now, then.”

“I’ll walk you.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not exactly far, guinea pig.” But she didn’t stop him from following her out.

As Ryuji gave up his booth spot to Makoto, opting instead to lean against the bar by Yusuke, he silently agreed. After seeing how much of a mess Leblanc was- and the fact that they’d grabbed Sae-san  _ out of the goddamned courthouse- _ he didn’t wanna think about whether they knew about any of Akira’s other… friends? Acquaintances? Dealers? People, he decided. Any of Akira’s other people.

Actually no, that just made him sound like some sorta Yakuza crime lord or something.

Although if anyone could pull it off…

Ryuji mused it over in his head for a few minutes before he felt an itch. Akira hadn’t been gone long enough to be worried. It was down the street, and the two of them had obviously still been talking. Not to mention they’d need to stock back up after the shitshow of Shido’s fight.

But… Akira had gone alone.

What if-

No. No thinking about what ifs.

He pushed away from the counter, drawing the others’ attention. He shrugged at them, leg bouncing anxiously, and they nodded. That was the nice thing about spending so much time fighting for your life in a group; especially if you get in a relationship and have to start  _ really _ talking about things- everyone learned to read each other at a glance.

He was grateful they didn’t stop him or try to join him as he slipped out of the cafe. He knew how they felt and why, but having them hovering over him all the time would definitely get suffocating quickly.

Besides, even worried about his injuries, they knew he could handle himself.

Ryuji didn’t have to go far before he found him.

Akira was a couple alleys down, leaning against a shadowed wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed.

Ryuji took a moment to observe him; the tense posture, the clenched fists, the furrowed brows, the steady, measured breaths, and something twisted in his chest. He didn’t know what it was- guilt, or grief, or just empathy. Ryuji felt what the people around him felt- he always had, and he couldn’t turn it off even if he wanted to. And seeing Akira so obviously hurting-

He moved forward until he was directly in front of Akira, watched those dark eyes open to focus on him. Saw the pain and fury and residual fear in them.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Akira returned, voice even more quiet than usual. Despite the exhaustion clearly pulling at him, there was a tense line of energy in his body. Eyes bright with exhaustion, sharp with emotion.

They watched each other for a moment, reading each other as they’d been able to from the moment they met in the rain. Then Akira shot forward, and if it’d been anyone else Ryuji would have expected him to punch him.

But it was Akira; who he’d had to tell to back off when the track team came after him. Who’d picked him up with eyes blazing and skin prickling hot from suppressed fury the day he’d had Shiisaa and told Ryuji  _ never again _ . Who hated watching Ryuji take hits for them, even though he knew he weathered them best. Who knew  _ why _ that was and had never judged him.

So he wasn’t surprised when Akira didn’t punch him. He was surprised when he pulled him and twisted, so Ryuji landed against the wall with a quiet  _ thud _ that stung his injuries- though not enough to hurt. Not in a bad way, at least.

It left Ryuji leaning against the wall with Akira in front of him, above him; those two inches making all the difference in the shadowed lighting like this. Akira had one hand clenched in his shirt, the other on the wall next to his head, and he could see him, feel him, shaking.

“Akira,” he said quietly, not quite a question.

Akira shuddered and then his head snapped up, eyes  _ blazing _ even in the dim light, and suddenly Ryuji couldn’t breathe as he was full-body pinned to the wall and a mouth covered his.

Akira kissed him like he was drowning. It was rough, unusually so for Akira. It was hard and desperate and afraid, nothing like his usual teasing and mischief. Even after the interrogation, even after the engine room, it hadn’t been like this. It had been desperate and afraid, but it had been softer. Not- this. A demand, a reminder of existence.

When Akira finally pulled back to let them breathe, resting their foreheads together, they were both trembling.

“I’m- I’m right here,” Ryuji said shakily.

Akira’s voice broke. “You weren’t. You- You weren’t there when we got back. You were  _ gone _ . I thought-” A shudder wracked his body, and Ryuji reached up to wrap his arms around him.

He let Akira press his face to his shoulder and shake apart, curling his arms tight around him and burying his face in the curly black hair. He idly noted that they both still smelled like smoke and medicinal cream, but that just made him hold Akira that much tighter as tears he’d been trying to fight back spilled over into Akira’s hair.

They both stood there for several minutes, holding each other and crying, before it tapered off and they could mostly breathe again. They still didn’t move for a bit, curled around each other, but eventually the cold air began biting at them- notably Ryuji’s sleeveless form- and they reluctantly pulled away and wiped at their eyes.

Akira snuck in another kiss, soft with a hint of teeth this time, and tangled their fingers together as they walked back, but Ryuji didn’t mind. It meant that Akira was steadier, and back to his mischief.

They got back to find the rest of the team discussing sleeping arrangements, as none of them particularly wanted to split up. At the same time, though…

Well, it wasn’t surprising that the idea of their normal take over of the attic was less than appealing.

Akira was staying here, and Ryuji slung an arm across his shoulders to make his position clear, and Makoto immediately volunteered as well. Haru was quiet for a moment, then said that she’d stay as well. Ryuji was both surprised and not. Haru’s position was complex, and she was probably still trying to figure out how she felt. Morgana immediately declared that he was staying as well.

The others decided to go home with Boss and Futaba- if only to safeguard and double check on the house for the conspiracy’s presence. They said their goodnights, subdued and exhausted, and then headed up to the attic to lay out the futons and curl up together.

He lay back to back with Akira, Haru tucked under his chin and hand reaching back to tangle with Makoto’s. It was warm and comfortable, a relief after the stress of everything. Feeling the futon shift, he opened his eyes to find Morgana looking down at him, ears twitched back slightly.

“What’s up?” he asked quietly.

Morgana’s tail flicked for a moment and he sighed. “Today sucked,” he said simply, then leaned down and pressed his head against Ryuji’s. “I’m glad you’re alright, dumbass.”

“You’re welcome for saving your skin, asshole,” Ryuji shot back with a teasing grin.

Morgana snorted, pulling back and giving Ryuji a quick lick on the forehead. “Thanks. And that’s all you’re getting from me, so go to sleep.” Ryuji stared after him wide-eyed as, with an embarrassed huff, he turned and leapt onto the bed, giving Akechi a quick glance and then leaping to the window sill. He sprawled across it in the moonlight, getting comfortable to keep watch.

Ryuji continued staring for a moment, then a small smile spread across his face and he relaxed back and closed his eyes.

Falling asleep was easy, surrounded by people he trusted like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something I’ve seen other people playing around with, but I wanted to do my own take on it, with two of the most controversial boys in the P5 fandom (for… some reason. Goro, I can understand even if I personally sympathize with him. But Ryuji??? Do not understand the hate he gets. He’s best boi).
> 
> Anyway, I will defend these two with my life so fight me.


	15. Day 15 - Magical Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro Akechi couldn’t die.
> 
> Not that anyone else knew that, of course. He'd gone to great lengths to hide it- but one mistake leads his temporary teammates to the truth, and suddenly he has to contend with the consequences.
> 
> They aren't the horror story ramifications he expected to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU I’ve been playing around with for a while now, and I’m guiltily excited to explore it some.
> 
> Poor Goro.
> 
> Edit: Hi, hello, enjoy this monstrosity of a chapter that got way out of hand and took way longer than it was meant to because of that.
> 
> Chapter warnings: Magical healing/Immortality, Temporary character death, Implied/Referenced Suicide (attempts?), Suicidal thoughts, Suicide ideation, Guilt, Breakdowns, Past accidental murder, Past blackmail, Philosophical discussions about forgiveness

Goro Akechi couldn’t die.

Not that anyone else knew that, of course. That was one secret he could never, ever let Shido discover. The threats over his head were already bad enough- he didn’t even want to  _ think _ about what Shido would come up with to keep him in line if he knew he couldn’t die, knew that any injury made to him would heal in a few hours, a couple of days.

Goro wasn’t that strong.

He hadn’t always been that way either, and he still had the scars from  _ before _ to prove it. Every injury made to him before he’d awoken his Persona had healed at a normal pace and left normal scars.

It was after. After he’d awoken to Loki, his injuries began healing over immediately no matter the severity. He’d learned that the hard way. If he hadn’t-

Well. He certainly wasn’t going along with Shido because he wanted to. Even his half-planned impulsive revenge plot would have been thrown away as soon as Shido had turned him into his pet assassin (after killing that Shadow when Shido said it would get rid of her distortion, and then seeing the news that it had  _ killed _ her-) had the situation not trapped him the way it had.

Make the best of a bad situation; if he couldn’t escape it, he’d find a way to ultimately circumvent it. Killing Shido wouldn’t work, someone else in the conspiracy would simply take his place and Goro couldn’t bring himself to simply turn a blind eye. Which meant he had to find some way to reveal and ruin both Shido and the conspiracy.

Before the Phantom Thieves had appeared, he’d had no idea how he was going to do that. After, he’d discovered that infiltrating Shido’s Palace was impossible on his own.

(Even unable to die- it still  _ hurt _ , and he had no interest in dying over and over, especially against  _ himself _ . Besides, it was too dangerous in Shido’s Palace. Doing it too much might change the man’s cognition of him, might tip him off, and he  _ could not risk that _ .)

Which meant he had to come up with an alternative.

This was not the ideal one. But- there was too much at stake, and they wouldn’t have been able to handle it sooner. Waiting so long meant turning this into a 3D chess game in which Shido wanted them out of the way, wanted Goro to do it, they wanted to survive, he needed them to survive, and-

Well; it was good that he played the long game and had decided to “slip up” back in June, otherwise making them suspect enough to bug him without being overt would have been much more difficult. As it was,  _ they _ were the ones being ridiculously overt. But that was fine; this was technically his plan after all. They were clever, he was sure they’d come up with a way around the assassination. And if not,  _ then _ he would come clean and rescue Akira. But until then…

Maybe it was just excuses. Unjustified ones, even. But it was too dangerous, to him and to them, to risk filling them in on the situation just yet. Shido’s Palace was ridiculously dangerous, so he needed to make sure they were ready. They tended to act rashly when they got too angry, and allowing them to dive head-first into the Palace and against the conspiracy would get them killed. If Shido caught wind of what was going on, they were dead and he was worse than. No one would actually believe that he couldn’t die if he just told them outright. They wouldn’t believe he was on their side, either. There were plenty of reasons, of excuses, why he couldn’t be honest and straightforward with them.

Not yet, at least.

So he allowed the situation to play out for now. Taking his place within the group and playing the role they all pretended was real, constantly hyper-aware that he was three layers deep in his own deception.

Yet despite that, he somehow… never felt out of place. Even as wary as the others were of him, they still accepted his presence and place within the group. They never ignored him, never made fun of his mistakes (purposeful though some of them were), never withheld items even when they weren’t really needed, and it wasn’t unusual for them to initiate conversations. Somehow, despite everything, he felt somewhat welcome in the group.

It was the closest Goro had ever felt to  _ belonging _ somewhere, and it made the bitter guilt rest heavy on his tongue. But he’d made the promise to himself ages ago, that when all was said and done he’d own up and take responsibility for his actions when Shido fell. He’d accept the consequences whatever they may be. This only made him more determined of that.

Perhaps it also made him a bit more careless than he should be, around them, or else this wouldn’t have happened.

Mementos could be tricky, as the technical Palace of the public in general, sometimes  _ weird _ things happened. Certain enemies were stronger than they should be, or attacks reacted in ways that they shouldn’t, or unique enemies showed up out of nowhere based on a new trend. It could be incredibly dangerous when that happened- Goro had experienced his fair share of mishaps due to it.

The others had too, but it still caught all of them off guard when a Shadow morphed and turned into- something. A strange cross between a bear and a- duck? It was borderline  _ grotesque _ .

“What in the world is  _ that _ ?” Goro had never heard anyone sound quite as offended as Fox did at the sight, and bit back an amused smile. Now wasn’t the time.

Oracle apparently disagreed, and cackled even as she summoned Necronomicon.  _ “What, you don’t like it Inari? It’s Kumahiru-chan!” _

“I can see what it is made of Oracle! It is the- the- the utterly  _ appalling _ taste which I question!”

_ “No, no, Kumahiru-chan is it’s name! It’s the mascot of a new horror game that’s getting popular, inspired by the Freddy’s Night Shift series. It’s like, all over the internet right now.” _

“Well that explains why it’s here…” Goro sighed, already resigning himself to an unpleasant battle. Especially with Fox and Oracle sniping at each other the whole time, which they obviously would, and it being from a  _ horror _ game. Which meant it probably had at least one instant death move they would need to avoid and prepare revival items for.

Oh, and it would also use Curse. Which he was weak to with Robin Hood. Because of course.

Sure enough, the first attack was an Eigaon aimed directly at him. He dodged with a scowl and sent a Kouga back. It did a bit of damage, but did not knock it down, and neither did the following Eiga. Because of course.

Joker sent him a sympathetic look as he relegated him to the back, but leapt forward with his own attack.

Goro hung back by Oracle along with Panther, Skull, and Mona- for the moment. If the current line-up couldn’t find its weakness before it started doing major damage, then Joker would start switching people out. But perhaps…

“Oracle, you said it was based on a game. Does it have any weaknesses in-game?”

“ _ Nope, in game it’s invincible. You can’t do damage, it’s a stealth and escape game.” _

“What about its backstory?”

_ “Er… we don’t actually know yet. Supposedly the gameplay is based on the Freddy’s series, but the creators have already said that the backstory wasn’t. So… we don’t have any way to know.” _

“Perhaps, but it is based on cognition…” Goro murmured. “So anyone who’s familiar with the Freddy’s series might still make those subconscious connections.”

_ “Hmmm, maybe! Worth a shot. Noir, try some Psy damage! If that doesn’t work, electric might!” _

Goro watched as first Noir, then Joker threw the elements at the Shadow, but they didn’t do much. Queen hit it with nuclear, which did a bit of damage, then followed up with a gun and physical attack, both of which were deflected. He grimaced. It was beginning to look like this would be a long, grueling battle.

One after another, the elements were tested, and they were left with the information that the Shadow didn’t have any weaknesses, and was immune to physical and gunfire. Which was just great.

Thankfully Robin Hood at least had Samarecarm now, which he realized was a very good thing when the Shadow threw out a Mamudoon at the others, so Goro wasn’t completely useless. They all managed to dodge the first one, but he wasn’t holding his breath that it would stay that way as the battle continued.

The others switched in and out as the battle dragged on, and Goro couldn’t help but chafe a bit as he remained on the sidelines mostly just dispensing items. He still wasn’t used to working as a group rather than alone, and it felt wrong to not be in the center of the fight.

His chance came after Queen took one hit too many and got knocked down. Joker called for her to pull back- but everyone else was already on the field, and they couldn’t afford to create a hole in their ranks. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded for them to switch out. Goro tagged in and threw an immediate Megidola to give Mona a bit of breathing room.

He then spent the next minute dodging attacks as the damn Shadow focused on the new player on the field, and ignored the others to try to take him out. And since Robin Hood was  _ weak _ to Curse Goro couldn’t afford to take even a single hit. Panther finally managed to draw its attention away, allowing him a brief moment to regain his footing as the others leapt back in.

Even from the outside, the fight had appeared grueling. Now that he was a part of it, he realized exactly how arduous it was. The Shadow was fast and hit hard, barely giving anyone room to breathe, on top of the fact that they  _ had _ to use the elemental affinities on their Persona in order to do any damage at all, and it was wearing them down quickly. By this point, Oracle and Joker were carrying the team and keeping them all alive. It grated, a bit, to be so useless. If he could use Loki, it would be a different story altogether, but with Robin Hood so weak in this situation…

Goro flung himself up and back as the Shadow unleashed a Maeigaon, avoiding it by a hair. The others weren’t so lucky, and everyone but Joker, who also managed to dodge, was knocked back.

As the Shadow drew itself up for another attack, Goro distantly registered Oracle’s warning. It was going to be powerful, but she couldn’t tell what exactly it was going to do. He frowned as the red-black energy flickered around it, trying to pinpoint what it was.

It clicked just as the Shadow’s attention snapped to Joker, and he was moving almost before he could think. Considering the situation, if Joker went down they were all dead.

He shoved Joker out of the way just as the Mudoon hit, and couldn’t quite bite back the strangled gasp as he felt the pain of the rods piercing his body.

Black crept across the edges of his vision as the doll faded. Before his legs could give out, however, the Shadow  _ moved _ .

It was right in front of him swinging its giant paw, and he distantly heard Oracle’s scream and the others’ shouts as searing agony tore through his chest and he was sent flying through the air with the vague observation that the Shadow’s claws were covered in blood before he abruptly struck something solid and  _ feltheardfelt _ the crack and everything was numb as cold blackness washed over him-

-he didn’t even feel himself hit the ground.

.

.

.

It was… warm. That was strange. Mementos was bitterly cold this time of year, even more so than in the real world. And… he was laying on something soft, with something under his head. A bed? It smelled nice. The familiar scent of coffee and curry that permeated Leblanc and seemed to follow Akira around. How… strange. It was a nice departure from his usual way of waking from death, at least, lying sprawled on the ground of Mementos that it usually was. Was he- it couldn’t be Mementos, even a safe area. So they must have brought him back to the real world. Probably Leblanc, considering the smell and fact that it was their ‘hideout’.

The pain permeating his body was familiar, at least. It took time to heal injuries, even if they would disappear entirely eventually.

While he was taking stock of his body, it took him a moment to register the quiet voices. He shifted his attention to focus on them, though he didn’t have the energy to move or open his eyes. It was fine, his energy would come back soon enough. It always did. For now though, he was content to listen.

“Do you think it’s a Persona ability?” Ann was murmuring. “I mean, it obviously wasn’t anything we’ve seen before, but…”

“Or an accessory, perhaps,” Yusuke added.

“Nuh-uh, there’s no way,” Futaba cut in. “I  _ saw _ his stats, he was  _ gone _ . Like, completely. Not just “dead” as in the sort of stasis thing that happens from instakill moves or when you guys just fall and have to use a revival item. I mean… he was… completely…” her voice wavered and trailed off.

Akira spoke, his voice quiet and flat. “The revival bead didn’t work. Neither did Samarecarm. We’ve never died in the Metaverse. Not a real death the way it is in the real world. That’s what that was.”

It was silent for a moment, and anxiety begin to creep through the emotional placidity Goro had awoken in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to find out.  _ No one _ was supposed to find out. Especially not like  _ this _ .

“Meaning… what?” Makoto asked softly.

He heard Akira sigh. “I don’t… know. I don’t know if it was some sort of special ability that comes from his Persona, or… something else in relation to his abilities as Black Mask. But…”

“He definitely… I mean-” Ryuji broke off in uncharacteristic uncertainty. “He- he definitely died, right?”

“Yeah. He… definitely did.”

Dammit.  _ Dammit _ .  _ Careless _ .

But if it hadn’t been him, it would have been Joker. And that was something that he  _ could not _ abide by. Akira  _ could not _ die. None of them could. So… he couldn’t regret taking the hit.

“So then… how did he come back?”

It was quiet for another moment. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Makoto sighed.

“Should we ask?” Haru wondered quietly. “Or… would it be too much of a risk?”

“I mean, I know  _ I _ wanna know. But if it’ll put the plan at risk…” Futaba trailed off, and he could mentally picture her biting her lip in his head. “‘Cause if it’s a Black Mask thing, then he can’t tell us.”

“Or he will simply lie, and it will be a useless endeavor anyway.”

“Or that, yeah.”

“Assuming he knows the details.”

“Is… Is that even possible?”

He could practically see Akira’s shrug. “If dying knocks him unconscious, he might not realize that he actually  _ died _ . Unlikely, but…”

“Yeah,” Morgana sighed. “With Personas, you can’t really rule anything out. I mean, even you guys don’t always know what abilities you can do or are doing until they’re pointed out, right?”

Makoto hummed doubtfully. “On one hand, yes. On the other, his injuries  _ are _ still there even if they’re healing quickly. I find it difficult to believe he would sustain a fatal injury without knowing.”

“Do you… think it’s happened before? I mean, he’s obviously been doing this for a while, and if he’s been completely alone this whole time…” Ann swallowed. “Considering how bad Mementos is for  _ us _ sometimes…”

“He didn’t hesitate,” Akira said quietly. “When he realized it was going for me with an instakill attack- He was moving before I could even think to. Even if he assumed we’d be able to revive him… I doubt that lack of hesitation comes from ignorance.”

Goro’s breath hitched quietly, but it was enough for them to go immediately quiet.  _ Shit _ . Nothing for it now, if they checked they’d know he was awake. Better to pretend to just be waking up. He pushed more air from his lungs and shifted, blinking open his eyes. He flinched with a hiss at the light, reaching up to cover his eyes and turning his head to squint at the others.

A shadow blocked out the worst of the light, and Goro blinked up tiredly at Akira as he hovered next to the bed with a furrowed brow.

“Akira,” he tried to say, but it came out as a rasp that made him cough, which quickly culminated into him curling onto his side trying to breathe through the pain without making a sound as agony burned through his whole body. Especially his torso. That last hit must have done a ridiculous amount of damage for so much of it to still be present.

He was distantly aware of the others talking, and forced himself to focus on it through the haze of pain.

“Takemi probably wouldn’t ask too many questions, right?” Morgana was asking.

“Maybe not, but I’d rather not risk it if we don’t have to. But-”

Oh no, absolutely not. “I’m  _ fine _ ,” he forced through clenched teeth. “No shady back-alley doctors.” No doctors period.

“You are clearly  _ not _ !” Makoto protested immediately.

He shot her a glare and caught his breath as he forcefully levered himself into sitting up. Or tried, at least, because Akira was there catching his shoulder. A glare from Goro prevented him from pushing him back down, at least, and he instead helped him sit upright.

He could see the others standing, as though they wanted to help but weren’t sure how, and sighed. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ve all gotten your fair share of severe injuries; it’s nothing a Diarahan can’t deal with.”

Akira opened his mouth to argue with something, but Ryuji interrupted with a scowl. “None of us have ever died though!”

No. Absolutely not. He was not dealing with this, so he sent Ryuji a skeptical look. “I find that hard to believe, considering how familiar you all are with revival items.”

He pretended not to see Ann elbow Ryuji or Morgana flash him a sharp look as Akira spoke. “We have, but not like that. You were hit by both the Mudoon and a follow up; your injuries are worse than any we’ve gotten.”

“That doesn’t negate my point about Diarahan.”

His stomach twisted as Akira grimaced and the others exchanged glances.

“We tried that,” Makoto sighed. “But even after you revived, it didn’t seem to have much effect. The same thing occurred with items.”

Ah. Right. That happened sometimes, after status effects or instant kill moves. Whatever it was that prevented him from staying dead- Loki, presumably- also mitigated outside influences while the damage was being reversed. So medicine was less effective- as were healing spells, apparently.

Which meant he somehow had to find some way to escape this situation without addressing the obvious issue. He could hope all he wanted that they would simply embrace paranoia and accept his excuses, but just looking at their expressions made him suspect that that wouldn’t work this time. Damn their sense of justice and compassion. It was  _ very _ inconvenient when he was trying to play the antagonist.

"Perhaps it's simply a side effect of it being a unique Shadow, and the next time we go back it will work fine. Either way," he gritted his teeth against the pain as he shifted, "-it's nothing I can't handle. I'll simply have to take care the next couple of days."

Akira’s brows furrowed with a small upset frown, and Goro hated how that look always made him want to spill his heart out.

“Considering the severity of your injuries, I doubt even prudence would allow for functionality.”

_ Unbelievable _ . He couldn’t resist the jab, it was too easy. “You are quite possibly the  _ last _ person to be lecturing me about my health, Kitagawa.”

“He’s got ya’ there, Inari,” Futaba snorted, then she looked more seriously at Goro. It made guilt settle bitterly in his chest at the concern in her eyes. “He’s right though, no way you’ll be able to do normal stuff even if you take it easy.”

“I am more than capable of handling myself while injured, I assure you,” Goro countered, a strained note in his voice. “It would hardly be the first time I contended with the complications of injuries, even if they are more severe than usual. You don’t need to concern yourselves so much.”  _ Just drop it already _ .

“Dude, seriously?”

Ann sighed, crossing her arms. “You can’t expect us to just not care that you’re hurt.”

“What did you mean by ‘complications of injuries’?” Haru asked. He hated the disquiet in her expression. He didn’t  _ want _ them to worry about him; least of all the two whomst he had already hurt the most.

At least he had an excuse ready for this. “I  _ am _ a detective, you know. That means that I occasionally run afoul of the people I’m attempting to capture, and injuries are to be expected.”

“Yes, but even still… these are on a whole different level.” Makoto sighed.

“I will be  _ fine _ ,” Goro said between gritted teeth. “I’ve survived worse so will you please just  _ drop it _ ?”

He immediately knew he’d messed up, because every one of the Thieves tensed and snapped their attention to him.  _ Shit. _

Makoto looked alarmed. “ _ Worse _ ?”

“What do you mean worse?” Akira asked quietly.

“Akira,” Goro began warningly.

Akira just narrowed his eyes at him, staring hard. “Akechi.”

Goro scowled, tense. “ _ Don’t _ . Just drop it.”

“At this point, I don’t think I can. How did you get worse injuries than this?”

His temper, already frayed from the pain and emotional exhaustion, snapped. “You know how,  _ Joker _ . And considering we’re all pretending that you don’t you should really just  **_drop it_ ** .” He shoved himself to his feet, fully intending to push past Akira and leave Leblanc entirely, but the moment he stood black spots erupted across his vision and agony flashed through his chest, making him stagger with a gasp.

He half expected to collapse to the floor; but as ever, Akira was there to support him.

“You knew,” Akira said quietly, and Goro couldn’t quite pin the emotions in his voice.

The ringing silence of the others was louder than any exclamations they could have made.

Exhaustion struck him suddenly, everything that had happened hitting him at once, and he slumped. He’d already said too much, there was no going back now. Whatever happened, happened, and he’d just have to hope he hadn’t ruined everything.

“You all are many things,” Goro sighed, “but  _ subtle _ is not one of them. You're extremely lucky I've been trying to help, however subtly, or else you'd have given away the game long ago."

He barely felt the tremor of surprise through Akira, but it was there.

“Help us?” Makoto asked, and he didn’t need to look at her to know she had an incredulous look on her face.

“The TV station.” Morgana jerked with surprise. “The warning in Shibuya. The phone bug. The call with Shido about his plan. Weren’t they all just a little  _ too _ convenient and easy?” He glanced over with an unimpressed look to Futaba. “Your acting needs work, as do your excuses, because there is nothing about my phone that would make a tech nerd geek out, and I’m just interested in tech enough to  _ know _ that. As for the phone call…” he sent a flat look at Akira. “I’m  _ not _ an idiot, you know. The formation of that sort of plan is  _ never _ spelled out and finalized over the phone for this very reason. But I needed you to know so you could figure out a way around it without having to get directly involved myself.”

“Why?”

Goro scowled. “What do you mean  _ why _ ?”

“Why the hell not just come clean and talk to us directly?” Ryuji snapped, shoving himself up. “What the hell are you even planning?”

Before he could answer, Akira was carefully pushing him back towards the bed. He resisted for a moment, swaying in place with a glare, but Akira glared back with a firm hand on his chest, just above the bandages, and Goro caved with a sigh.

He sat back on the bed and folded his arms across his chest, mentally sorting the necessary information into some semblance of coherency as Akira settled next to him and the others shifted to watch him, Ann tugging Ryuji back onto his chair.

How much should he tell them? How much  _ could _ he tell them? The truth about Shido, his past, the shutdowns and breakdowns, the conspiracy, but- what about himself? His pathetic excuses lay withered in his chest and he knew it.

He sighed. He’d just- avoid the topic of his unique situation as much as possible. “The shutdowns are what happen when you kill someone’s Shadow. As I’m sure you know by now, they were my fault. I’ve spent the past two years playing assassin for a government conspiracy- headed by the politician Masayoshi Shido. I stumbled into the Metaverse by accident a little over two years ago and awoke my Persona. I was stupid- I saw it as an opportunity.”

He smiled bitterly and shook his head.

“An orphan bastard lost to the system- what better way to escape than superpowers and a benefactor to support my efforts? I made the mistake of arrogance. My mother had spent my whole life waxing poetic about her hatred of my profligate father and his high position in government and how it made it easy for him to throw her away, and I thought ‘what better way to get revenge than to win his favor and then turn on him later?’ As you can guess, that… didn’t work out well.” A bitter laugh. “At fourteen, it seemed like the obvious solution.” Goro sighed and closed his eyes, remembering the lead-up to the biggest mistake of his life. “Right up until I saw the news that the woman whose Shadow I had killed had died in the real world.”

He heard the sharp inhale of breath, but didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see her expression. “You… didn’t know?” Futaba asked uncertainly.

He sighed again, opening his eyes but staring hard at the floor. “Not that first time. The first time was… an experiment, I suppose, for Shido. A test as to whether I would be any use to him. At that point all I knew was that I could access another dimension, and that there were strange monsters there guarding the true thoughts, the souls, of the people of society, and that I had the power to fight them.” He pursed his lips, arms tightening across his chest. “Everything else- the terminology and scientific data behind it- I got from Shido after…  _ after _ . That first time-” He swallowed and glared at the ground. He  _ hated _ talking about this. He’d never had to before. “I didn’t know all of that. So when Shido said that the Shadows were created by the distortions in people’s thoughts, and that killing the Shadows would dispel the distortions and return them to normal, I was stupid and naive enough to belive him.” His mouth twisted into a sour mockery of a smile. “Until I saw the news and realized the truth. But by then it was too late. He had exactly what he wanted- blackmail over me, and uninhibited access to the research of the Metaverse.”

Futaba let out a shuddering breath, and he risked a glance over to see her glaring mutinously at the floorboards. “And with Mom out of the way, there wasn’t anyone who would be able to figure out what he was doing, because of how specialized the research to the Metaverse was.” She looked up and, despite the tears in her eyes, they were hard and clear. “Even if you had gone to the police at that point, they wouldn’t have believed you, would they.” It wasn’t a question.

Goro swallowed mutely and shook his head, taken off guard. “It- Even if the Metaverse research wasn’t so specialized, it would be my word against his. A foster-scum orphan, or a respected politician.” His smile was humorless as he dropped his hands to his lap, clasping them nervously. “I’m sure we all know who they would have believed. And even if I had refused point-blank, Shido’s had yakuza connections for years. He relies on me for the convenience of untraceable connections, but he doesn’t technically  _ need _ me. It’s just a convenience.”

“You step out of line and you die,” Makoto murmured with a grimace.

He huffed out a tired laugh. “A rude awakening for a fourteen year old with a grand revenge plot.” His thumb traced the inside of his wrist, unblemished skin soft at the brush of contact.

He almost wished that his healing ability at least left scars.

“I had no way to escape the situation, so I decided that I would play the long game. I would play his game until I had a way to drag him into ruin and expose everything he had done, everything he’d had me do, and all of his connections in the conspiracy.” Goro shook his head. “Unfortunately I couldn’t just kill him, because someone else in the conspiracy would just step forward and take his place. So I gathered information and trust and waited for an opportunity to act.”

“And I suppose that we are that opportunity?” Yusuke’s finger tapped his chin. “Why not simply change his heart for yourself?”

“If I  _ could _ have I  _ would _ have.” Goro grimaced, digging a fingernail into his wrist to distract himself from the anxiety curling in his chest. “But until you all showed up, I didn’t even know changes of heart  _ existed _ . It’s not like I had any sort of guide to how the Metaverse worked beyond what Shido deigned to share from the research he stole, and what you do is  _ not _ a logical conclusion to come to. And his Palace is monstrously difficult anyway. In order to even reach his Shadow you need five letters from trusted advisors, scattered through his Palace. But even knowing who they are, I’ve never been able to track down and talk to any of them, and I’ve never been able to get past any of the guards. Part of it is because he doesn’t fully trust me, and he has safeguards in place specifically against my betrayal. The fact that he has access to the Metaverse research only makes it  _ easier _ for him to put up mental barriers and-”

Goro was cut off by a hand grabbing his tightly and startled, glancing over to find Akira frowning down at his wrist. He followed his gaze to find a bloody scratch from his fingernail, the skin around it already beginning to bruise a dark purple.

He sighed and pulled his hand away to rub it against his leg. He needed to stop doing that; regardless of his healing factor. It was the reason he’d begun wearing gloves in the first place. With his nails covered he couldn’t do any damage with them.

“Regardless, it’s not through lack of trying. I simply do not have the ability to make it through on my own.” And he had no interest in bleeding out on that fancy carpet from a shot through the chest for the fourth time.

“Again, why the hell didn’t you just talk to us about it?” Ryuji scowled as he leaned on the back of the chair.

“I would think that would be obvious, Sakamoto.” Goro shot back. “By the time your group was strong enough that you  _ might _ be able to handle the Palace without dying, any attempts at reaching out were unlikely to go any way but  _ very poorly _ . And if I approached you earlier, I couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t try to take on the Palace  _ anyway _ , even if you weren’t ready for it. Not with the knowledge of what was going on. Obviously it wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t risk failure with so much on the line. If Shido and his conspiracy aren’t stopped before he becomes prime minister, things are going to get much worse for everyone.”

Ryuji looked like he desperately wanted to form an argument, but couldn’t come up with a sound one.

It was silent for a moment, and he could see them struggling to reconcile with all of the information he’d just given. He could admit that it was… a lot.

Then Akira asked the one question he’d desperately wanted to avoid.

“What about what happened earlier, when you took that hit? Is that one of your abilities?”

He very carefully didn’t react, instead turning a puzzled look on him. “What do you mean? I don’t recall doing anything special.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed and his hand shot out. “I mean this.” Goro’s stomach dropped as he lifted Goro’s left wrist to show the dried blood and unblemished skin, the thin scratch already gone.

Of course he’d noticed.

He jerked his wrist free and pulled it to his chest defensively. “I just heal quickly, it doesn’t matter.”

“Heal quickly?” Ann asked incredulously.

“Dude, you were  _ dead! _ ” Ryuji burst out. “You can’t just brush that off as “healing quickly”!”

“Can confirm, all vital signs stopped. Not just death stasis, you were  _ dead _ dead.” Futaba pushed her glasses up uneasily.

Morgana flicked his ears. “Something like that shouldn’t be possible; unless you know something we don’t about how it works.”

“I…” Goro clenched his fists, swallowing harshly. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want anyone else to know. He’d spent too many sleepless nights tossing and turning, terrified as his mind played all the things that could be done to someone who couldn’t die on repeat in his head. All the things Shido would do to him if he found out.

“Akechi-kun?” Haru asked quietly.

Goro looked down and away. “I don’t know. It just- happens. It’s not an ability I can control, or turn on and off. I get hurt and it heals quickly. It didn’t start happening until after I awoke my Persona, but I don’t know anything beyond that.” That should be enough to satisfy them, right?

“So it  _ has _ happened before…” Ann murmured, a pained expression flickering across her face.

He clenched his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Does it extend to the real world?” Morgana asked in a musing murmur, eyeing Goro’s wrist thoughtfully. “We can’t use Persona powers normally, but you still heal… and Joker can still use his Third Sight…”

He pressed his lips together and didn’t answer, stomach twisting as his chest wound tighter. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He didn’t want to be here talking about this. He didn’t-

“It does, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t look at Akira, didn’t answer.

_ “Akechi.” _

“Does it  _ matter _ ?” Goro asked from between gritted teeth. “I don’t see how it affects the situation. It’s irrelevant to-”

“It’s not.”

He looked up to find Futaba staring at him, face white. “What- What you said earlier. I thought there was something off, you- you said it kind of weird, but-” She swallowed, clenching her hands in her jacket. “When you said  _ “I had no way to escape the situation,” _ … It sounded like you  _ tried _ . I thought it was weird, but if- if that works in the real world too- Then-”

“I-” Goro forced himself to breathe through the building tightness in his chest. He didn’t want to talk about this; why had she figured it out? Why had  _ she _ been the one to figure it out?! He could feel himself shaking, heart pounding heavily in his chest as he mentally scrambled for something,  _ anything _ to say to counter that. But there wasn’t anything he could say believably at this point, because of course he’d made the attempt.

“Akechi…” Makoto breathed, and they were all staring at him in various shades of stunned horror. “You… Why?”

“ _ Why? _ ” He let out a small, broken laugh, giving up. He couldn’t fight it anymore. He was so, so tired. He’d hidden and contained his despair for two years now alone, always making absolutely sure that no one else even got a  _ hint _ . But now they knew anyway and- and what was the point of fighting it? There was nothing he could do now. “How could I  _ not _ ? Even if I hadn’t already killed someone, Shido was more than capable of destroying any semblance I’d ever have at a life if I didn’t do what he wanted. I was a bastard orphan, he was a respected politician, there was nothing I could do to touch him even if I tried to expose what he was doing. I had blood on my hands, nothing to my name, and no possible future unless I continued killing people for him.”

Everything was blurry, and his eyes and throat burned in an achingly familiar way. His voice was choked when he said, “What the hell was I supposed to do? Except it didn’t  _ work _ . I woke up the next morning with no injuries and too much blood for it to have been anything but fatal, but it  _ didn’t work _ . In the real world, or in the Metaverse.” His breath hitched and he ran a somewhat frantic hand through his hair. “And I know, I should have handled it differently. If I was going to have to kill people anyway I should have gone after the conspiracy. Should have said hell with the consequences and hunted them down, especially if they couldn’t kill me to stop me. Or I should have refused entirely, and just accepted how Shido reacted rather than killing  _ anyone _ but-”

The loud clatter of a chair broke him off, and he flinched in shock there was suddenly someone there, in front of him, in his space, and he tensed as he waited for the blow-

Arms wrapped around him, and he found his face pressed against a soft shoulder as hands clenched in the back of his shirt. The scent of rich earth and greenery, with the slightest hint of floral perfume, wrapped around him; even in the dead of winter Haru smelled like spring. Her grip was tight but the hug was soft, and all of it built up into the realization that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d gotten a hug- or  _ any _ tactile affection- and he broke into sobs against her shoulder as his hands clenched at her sweater.

It was all just- too much.

It felt like the world faded away entirely as he fell apart. This was far from the first breakdown he’d had like this in the past two years, but it was the first time he’d done so with someone else here.

Haru was warm against him, and it became the anchor that pulled him back from the blank empty exhaustion that always came with these. Considering the current situation, he couldn’t really afford to fall into a dissociative state right now.

As he pulled himself back into some vague semblance of human composure, he allowed himself a last few moments to hide against her shoulder before he shifted back to signal the end of the episode. She tightened her grip for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. Rather than returning across the room, however, she sat next to him on the bed with her arm pressed to his. Akira was on his other side, and the tiny, selfish part of him relished the warmth even as it was eclipsed by the guilt. He didn’t deserve it and he knew it, but it had been so long since  _ anyone _ had…

Goro reached up to wipe at his eyes as he attempted to regulate his breathing and pull himself together. As he glanced around the room, he could tell how shaken everyone was. Haru’s eyes were still watery and distressed, and it sent another pang of shame through him. Ann was wiping at her own reddened eyes, and Futaba was still pressed against Ryuji’s side with her face buried against him, Morgana in her arms and Ryuji’s arm around her with his expression rattled, overwhelmed. Makoto’s fist was pressed to her mouth, and he could see her fighting to process everything without losing her composure. Even Yusuke, always the coolest head under emotional pressure, had his hands clasped tightly enough that they had turned white, a pained expression on his face. Akira was tense against his side, and Goro could feel the dark thrumming of Curse under his skin that spoke of exactly how upset he was in order to feel it so strongly, even here.

It was clearly too much, for all of them.

His gaze found Makoto’s and, for all that their relationship was built on the border between rivalry and hostility, he knew they were far too similar for her to not to understand his thoughts. She let out a shuddering breath with an almost imperceptible nod and glanced around. “I think we all need a bit of a break,” she said quietly. “Why don’t we take half an hour to regain our composure before we continue?”

That got a round of nods and the attic filled with noises as they others picked themselves up. Goro closed his eyes and tried to just breathe for a few moments as the sounds slowly faded. It didn’t escape his notice that the two at his sides didn’t move.

He opened his eyes to see that Futaba had settled cross-legged in Ryuji’s chair as well, fiddling with her phone. It was silent but for their breathing, and Goro shouldn’t have found it as comforting as he did. But he could feel the slight tremor from Akira, and flicked his gaze over to see his fingers twitching as he kept glancing at the stairs.

Goro sighed quietly, fondness flickering in his chest despite himself, and nudged Akira’s arm. “Go.”

“What?” Akira looked over at him with a frown, and he arched a brow.

“You’re worried about them. Go check on them.”

He still hesitated, uncertain.

Goro sighed again. “Akira, I can assure you that they probably need you more than I do at the moment. This is hardly the first time I’ve dealt with this. Really, the only unusual thing about this situation is the fact that other people are involved.”

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.” Akira fiddled with his bangs, mouth tugging into a frown.

Goro shrugged, trying to fight back the exhaustion. “It is what it is, I know how to handle it.” His mouth twisted wryly. “I promise I’m not going to do anything particularly reckless in the half hour it takes everyone to return.”

“That’s not-” Akira broke off with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not the point.”

“It’ll be alright, Akira,” Haru said softly. He glanced over at her and his expression changed, Goro watching as some understanding passed between them, and he nodded.

“I’ll leave it to you, then.” He leaned against Goro for another moment, pressing their arms flush, then stood to leave. The space where he’d been was suddenly cold, and Goro shoved down the pang at the loss.

A moment later, though, the space was filled with another body as Futaba crossed the room and flopped next to him. She still didn’t say anything, just continued fiddling with something on her phone- he wasn’t going to look too hard at what, because he had an unnerving feeling that he already  _ knew _ \- as she leaned against him.

Tremors wracked through them, and he wasn’t sure who it was that was shaking. Maybe all of them. He could feel the guilt curling in his chest, a sick sensation resting in his stomach that ached, and he tried to breathe through it. He needed to speak, he knew. The three of them were here, alone, and it had obviously been a purposeful move on their part.

It needed to be said, but he had no idea how to convey it. Because it felt shallow and weak, an apology didn’t fix anything, didn’t even begin to touch upon what he’d done, what he’d taken from them and put them ( _ especially _ Futaba, god, he’d destroyed every aspect of her life) but he couldn’t undo what had been done. He didn’t expect to be able to make up for it, but they deserved at least that much, even if it was all he could really give.

Goro shuddered, clenching his hands into the blanket beneath them and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know- I know it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t fix it or make up for what I did, but- but I am. I never wanted this.” His grip tightened, and he was sure his knuckles must be white. “And I know it doesn’t mean much, that there’s nothing I  _ can _ do to give recompense, but…” He trailed off, uncertain how to continue. There… really wasn’t a right thing to say.

Haru rested her head on his shoulder, hand wrapping loosely around his tense wrist, but Futaba was the first to speak.

“I... “ she hesitated. “I didn’t want to forgive you for Mom, and I never really thought that I would. I loved her, more than anything, and… and it hurt so bad to lose her. Especially…” her lip trembled. “Especially what they did after, and how my relatives treated me.” He swallowed and his chest  _ burned _ at the reminder of what he’d put her through- even accidently. He’d put her through the same things he’d gone through, and it was the last thing he’d wanted. “I miss her, and I’m still scared a lot. But… but it wasn’t… it wasn’t really you. I mean, you were the one who did it, but- you, you didn’t do it because you wanted to, and if you’d known, you wouldn’t have right? So…” Futaba took a breath. “So, I guess what I’m saying is that you aren’t the one I should be aiming my target at, right? You’re just the red herring- this Shido guy is the real Final Boss.” She was staring down at her phone, biting her lip as she curled against him.

“I still killed her.” Goro took a shuddering breath. “Under duress or not… I’m still at least partially responsible.”

“Considering you’ve also apparently killed yourself multiple times over it, I think you’ve more than paid enough for it.” Her voice trembled a bit at that, and she turned to press her head against his arm. “I loved her and I miss her, but I can’t hate you for it when you obviously never wanted to do it, and clearly hate yourself for it more than I ever could. You were lied to, you didn’t  _ know _ , so you aren’t the guy I should be targeting.” She shrugged. “That’s just my take, but I’m the one who gets to decide whether to forgive you or not, so if I say you’ve earned my forgiveness then you have.” She turned back to her phone, making it clear that she considered her part finished.

Haru gave him a moment to process Futaba’s declaration before she began, gently squeezing his wrist. “In many ways I feel similarly- I loved my father, and I miss him and the lost potential of our relationship, but…” she hesitated for a moment, as though reaching for words, “-but understanding  _ why _ it happened, both of his actions and of yours… I find it difficult to hold a grudge against you. You clearly didn’t want to do this, and never would have if not for being forced to. And as much as I loved him, I cannot deny that he…” she paused, clearly struggling to articulate her feelings, and he swallowed but didn’t interrupt, “I don’t believe that he deserved it, but I also acknowledge that his own actions played a part in the situation, and that he was not innocent. He contributed to the issue.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, but it seemed she wasn’t done, merely collecting her thoughts.

“So… I suppose that my feelings are similar to Futaba-chan’s. I understand the role you played, but I also understand that it was not one you played entirely willingly, and that you have hurt for it far more than I have. You were involved, but you are not the one I wish to blame or target. You may believe that you do not deserve forgiveness, but I feel differently. So…” She pulled back to give him a watery smile. “I suppose what I want to say is… let’s work together to take down the people who have hurt us.”

Futaba hummed in agreement. “Well said, Noir! Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Goro swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “I… I suppose there’s not really anything I can say to that, is there?” A weak laugh escaped him. “If that’s your decision, then I suppose I must accept it.” It was hard to reconcile, after so long of considering himself unforgivable. Still, even if he didn’t forgive himself for it, he wouldn’t refuse theirs. “It won’t be easy to dismantle the whole conspiracy.”

“So what?” Futaba scoffed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Haru smiled brightly at them. “The path to justice is never easy, but the Phantom Thieves will not waver!”

“Ooh, that’s a good line! Maybe Ann should be taking lessons from you!”

“Hey, I heard that!” Ann called from where she was just reaching the top of the stairs.

The others began trickling back in over the next few minutes, still shaken but steadier after the break, and as Akira settled back on the other side of Futaba and flashed him a small smile, Goro allowed himself a flicker of hope in his chest.

That maybe, maybe things would turn out alright. Maybe they really could do this.

Even if Shido and the conspiracy wasn’t the end, if his unwilling ability had something deeper attached, if it was them…

If it was the Phantom Thieves, they would win no matter what.

For the first time in two years, Goro had real hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of philosophical questions about forgiveness in this, but... well, this is kind of my take on the subject. It's obviously very complicated and people view it differently.
> 
> This was so long... when you have the mental basis for a fic idea, and decide the first thing you're going to write of it is the climax, this happens. Oops.


	16. Day 16 - Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vampires don't exist. They don't. They shouldn't. They couldn't.
> 
> So why had Akira just intervened with one trying to force a woman into his car? And why... why had this happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had something else I was going to do, but I got halfway through it and realized it definitely wouldn’t work as a snippet like this. So I changed it. And I’ve been on a bit of a vampire/demon/succubus!Akira kick, and I’ve had this particular AU rattling in my head for a few months, so I figured _why not_? It’ll be fun! :)
> 
> (except for Akira)
> 
> (vampire!Akira with red eyes tho)
> 
> Warning Tags: Blood, Shido-typical assholery, non-consenual vampire turning, anxiety attacks, near-death/murder experience, suicide contemplation (via starving to death because Akira says hell no to killing anyone)

Akira didn’t realize how big of a mistake he’d made until the man who’d tripped looked up with glowing crimson eyes, lips drawing back to bare _fangs_.

He had to be dreaming, because last he checked vampires _definitely weren’t real._

The woman behind him whimpered, afraid but unsurprised, and Akira began to suspect that he’d gotten into something way over his head.

“Damn brat,” the man hissed (and there was an actual _hiss_ to his words that made Akira’s hair stand on end), “you’ll regret this.”

Probably. But then again, he’d have regretted it more if he _hadn’t_.

He was probably about to die, wasn’t he? “I’m not going to regret protecting someone from a creep- especially now that I know you’re a _literal_ soul-sucking bastard rather than a metaphorical one.” _Why_ would he say that. He was really determined to dig his own grave, huh? The woman’s small gasp from behind him attested to that.

Never let it be said that Akira Kurusu missed a chance to say something _incredibly stupid_ when facing down death, apparently.

The man’s snarl turned into something resembling a smile. It was dark, vicious, promising retribution, and Akira began mentally preparing himself for him to go for his throat.

He couldn’t really say that there was much he was leaving behind, but this was _not_ how he’d wanted to go out. He’d wanted to at least get to college first dammit. See at least a little bit of the world outside small, backwater, cut-off Inaba. Figures the universe would deny him even that freedom.

“Is that so?” The man chuckled, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. “Well,” his teeth were bared, but he made no move towards them as distant sirens approached. “I suppose we’ll see.”

And then Akira dealt with the most ridiculous bullshit he’d ever heard in his life as the two police officers just- point blank took the guy’s word. He was pretty sure they were from out of town, rookies or transfers, because he didn’t recognize them. The fact that the woman backed the guy up-

Well, Akira quickly pushed back the flash of hurt anger at that. He had no idea what the situation was, the man’s threat to her had been vague enough that it could mean a lot of things, so for all he knew the guy was holding the lives of her family over her head. The fact that he could see the guilt and regret in her eyes as he was shoved into the police car didn’t actually help.

He really hoped that she at least got out of this alright, or literally everything he’d done would have been for nothing, and _that_ idea pissed him off more than anything else.

And then the car turned right when it should have gone left, and Akira felt his blood run cold as several pieces fell together.

Of course they weren’t familiar, of course they weren’t from Inaba, _of course they took the guy’s word_.

Honestly, were they even _police?_

He started struggling against the handcuffs, trying to free his hands and craning his neck to see where they were going out of the window. One of the men sighed, and then there was a loud _click_ and a sharp pain in the side of his neck, and black started creeping across his vision _way faster than a tranquilizer dart should what the hell-_

**.**

**.**

**.**

He woke up in a sort of lounge, cuffed to a chair. It was a relatively nice lounge, the type you would find in an upscale office building (according to the internet, at least). A couple of low tables, a few couches and armchairs, pale walls and dark carpet-

And settled on one of those couches was the bastard who’d landed him here.

Akira watched, internally seething, as he flipped casually through the file in his hands. He didn’t say anything, just stared darkly at the man. He was sure he knew he was awake, considering he was apparently a _vampire_. But he was ignoring him, probably trying to psych him out or scare him.

Granted he _was_ scared- he was terrified and he didn’t _want_ to die- but he was also angry, and if he was going to die he would do it staring down his death with a challenge.

When the man finally deigned to give Akira his attention, he had a darkly amused expression on his face.

“I admit, your audacity is rather amusing. Attempting to interfere with _me_ … how pitiful. A mere rat, scrabbling frantically at the wall to escape a sinking ship. A meaningless effort, but amusing nonetheless.” He pushed himself to his feet in a smooth motion, setting the file on the table in front of him next to a sleek wooden box, and stepped forward to stand in front of Akira.

 _Did he_ **_really_ ** _just say that? That son of a-_ Fury pounded in his chest, and Akira really really wished he’d taken the opportunity to punch this guy in the face when he’d had his hands free. But he still didn’t say anything, just kept his face blank and hoped his rage showed in his eyes. He wasn’t going to give this bastard the satisfaction of a reaction; or even a noise. He could kill Akira if he wanted, but Akira wasn’t going to play this game.

He chuckled again. “What conflict in your eyes, struggling even when faced with what you know to be your imminent death… the pathetic struggle of the meaningless. Nonetheless, merely killing you seems like the waste of an opportunity. For you to know the full consequences of crossing me…”

The man smiled, walking in a slow circle around him, and Akira felt his breath pick up as he lost sight of him, heart thundering in his chest with trepidation. If the man wasn’t going to kill him- then what? Was he just going to torture him? Slowly drain him dry? He stiffened, clenching his teeth as the man fisted one hand in his hair and dragged to the right, settling the other on his left shoulder. His nail pressed into the spot where Akira had been shot, making blood bead to the surface, and he chuckled and said directly into Akira’s ear.

“I believe a difference in perspective is a far more _potent_ lesson.”

Akira had a split second to process that before agony seared his neck where the skin was split by fangs. He arched up, but just barely managed to bite back a yell. He would _not_ give him the satisfaction. Breath hissed from his teeth as the _bastard_ ground his fangs deeper, making it _hurt_.

And god it hurt; it hurt so much.

At least- until it didn’t. The pain faded away into numbness, seeping through the wound and down his body, and somehow the lethargy it brought was infinitely more terrifying than the pain. He felt sick, fear and disgust curling in his stomach as he fought against the haze slowly settling over his mind. It felt like that time he’d gone three days without sleep studying for exams, the same exhausted apathy undercurrented by the dread that no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be good enough.

(He hadn’t been able to escape his parents scathing criticisms over the lack of the perfect score- never mind that he was top of the school- and now he couldn’t escape whatever this was. He had a suspicion of what this was, and he wondered if death would be the better option than whatever strings were attached.)

It felt like he lost control of his body, muscles going lax as his thoughts trailed into static. It was wrong, all of this was wrong, he wanted it to stop, even though it didn’t hurt anymore he’d almost rather take the pain than this-

The man pulled back and released Akira. He slumped forward, caught by the handcuffs, and watched the man walk indifferently to the table. He opened the box and reached inside to lift out a large vial of dark red liquid, and Akira’s heart jumped into his throat.

He’d read enough vampire lore to recognize shared myths- or _not_ myths- and he knew _exactly_ what this was, even with what he assumed to be venom impeding his thought process. Akira tried to struggle against the cuffs as the man twisted the top off of the vial and set it down. He viciously fought the haze in his thoughts, trying to escape the cuffs, get away from the chair away from _this-_

But he couldn’t and the man reached him, and he tried to turn away tried to refuse what he knew was coming, but his hair was grabbed and his head yanked back and he made the mistake of gasping in pain, and suddenly he was choking as warm metallic liquid was poured down his throat.

His mouth was forced closed before he could cough or gag it out, forcing him to swallow the blood as disgust shuddered through his body.

It was almost immediately blocked out by the return of the mind-splitting agony from before, except this time it was worse. It was so, so much worse, starting from the bite on his neck and _spreading_ , following the same paths the numbness had, and he couldn’t breathe- couldn’t think- couldn’t feel beyond the pain.

The man chuckled again, but it sounded distant, like it came from underwater. “The effects are always quite interesting. Integrate blood of a fully changed vampire with the normally overall harmless venom, and suddenly you have something excruciatingly effective.”

Everything was blurry from the liquid falling from his eyes, and he could just barely feel himself shaking as he curled in on himself as best he could with his arms trapped behind him. It hurt, it hurt _so damn much he couldn’t take it-_ and as black crept across his vision, a part of him hoped that the blackness would take the pain with it and he wouldn’t have to wake back up to it- or at all.

Of course, life was never that easy.

He didn’t know where he was, or how much time had passed, but the concrete floor beneath him was cold, a cold that had done nothing to counteract the burning searing blazing agony searing through his body. He distantly registered soft sobs and whimpers, and it took him far longer than it should have to realize that they came from him. He curled up on the floor and tried to breathe but it just hurt so much-

The blackness pulled him back under, but he still felt the pain.

_-stopstopstop-_

_-please please please make it stop-_

He faded in and out of consciousness, and he couldn’t have guessed how much time passed or what happened around him in his delirium.

Though he remembered the person standing over him, remembered pleading with him to just make the pain stop, remembered him laughing, remembered the bite, another vial and the pain flaring all over again, remembered him casually saying that there would need to be several doses in order to ensure a full turning-

Akira sobbed and clung to himself and tried to think of something- anything- a memory, a story, a fantasy, anything to distract him from the pain. It didn’t work, all he could feel was the fire burning him from inside.

“Please, make it _stop_ ,” he choked out, but if anyone was around to hear him, they didn’t respond.

In and out, awake and asleep, the pain ever present, occasionally flaring into something incandescent whenever _he_ came back until-

It flared one last time, out of nowhere, and then vanished entirely.

Akira lay there, stunned, trying to process the sudden utter lack of any sort of pain after so long of drowning in it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was thirsty. Or- hungry?

Like he’d gone days without eating or drinking. Which… he probably had. It was- now that he was aware of it, it was all-encompassing, and he shuddered. He _had_ to get something to drink.

He was distracted by a pounding sound nearby, within the same room probably, and frowned. It was strange, and he couldn’t quite place what it was. Strange. He shifted, trying to take stock of his body and avoid his overwhelming thirst, and suddenly the pounding leapt into a frantic beat. It sounded almost like-

He opened his eyes, finding the source of the noise, and _froze_ . The woman- the same woman he’d been trying to save- did as well. She was handcuffed to the concrete wall- were those _manacles_ why was the whole room concrete did he suddenly time travel backwards what era even was this- and her eyes were bloodshot and teary, clothes ripped in places, like she’d been fighting back against something desperately.

They stared at each other, and Akira felt terror sink into his core at the realization of what this was.

_“I believe a difference in perspective is a far more potent lesson.”_

No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Too many things suddenly made sense, and with the desperate, overwhelming thirst that _suddenly made too much sense-_

He realized that he was holding his breath and let it out in a gasp to try and calm himself, only to register the mistake a moment later as his mouth and nose were assaulted with a scent that made the thirst flare into something near unmanageable.

His body lurched forward before he caught himself, throwing his arm across his face and flinging himself back to the wall opposite of her. He was shaking with the effort of fighting back his body’s burning need. He held his breath and closed his eyes, trying to fight back the reaction. The sound of her frantic heartbeat didn’t help much, just ratcheting up his own terror at what would happen if he lost control.

Though it was beginning to look more like _when_ , and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

“No,” he choked out, “No, no, no, please no, this can’t be happening.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t. Couldn’t breathe or else-

His lungs burned, though. He didn’t know if he needed to breathe- didn’t know which myths were accurate and which weren’t didn’t know anything- but he couldn’t afford to, but his body was used to it and it hurt to not breathe.

His lungs burned and his throat burned and his stomach burned and his eyes burned and he just wanted it to _stop._

_Please please please I don’t want this-_

It was too much, and he gasped out a breath, pressing himself solidly against the wall in desperate effort to keep his body’s reaction in check as he _shook._ She sniffled, and he wasn’t looking at her, couldn’t look at her, couldn’t risk it, but he heard her pressing herself against the far wall and the handcuff chains jangled and-

It was overwhelming, the scent, and his gaze involuntarily snapped to her wrist, and the drivulut of blood trailing from it from under the manacle in the dim moonlight and before he could think he was already moving. His body lunged across the room towards her, towards what his body craved and it was _right there-_

She let out a soft scream and cringed away against the wall as his hand slammed _into_ the concrete next to her, cracking the stone and digging in slightly, and waited for the pain of the end.

But it didn’t come, and she carefully, slowly, peeked her eyes open to find him leaning over her, both hands clenched and digging into the wall, eyes squeezed shut and whole body trembling as he fought against his body’s urges. The thirst was overwhelming, burning in his throat and stomach as though he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in days, but he couldn’t- he _refused_ to give in. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Akira’s breath hissed out between his teeth as he trembled and it took his entire force of will to pull back, away just a bit, but that was all he could manage as he knelt next to her and clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms until he felt his own blood trickling down. He swallowed harshly, breath hitching as his eyes burned with tears he fought back.

“Y-You’re…” she whispered, hesitating.

He grimaced. “Akira. I-” he pushed out his breath with another shudder. “I need- I need to get away. From you. Maybe people. Probably people. I don’t-” his breath hitched again and he swiped at his eyes. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to- to hurt anyone. To _kill_ anyone.” It was taking every once of his will not to go for her, and he was afraid of how long that may last. His eyes scanned the room for something, anything, and-

He’d cracked the concrete. He’d done it in his attempt to _restrain_ himself.

Akira stared wide-eyed, then glanced down at his hands. The only damage was some minor scraping and the nail-marks he’d left himself, which were- healing over? Right, okay, sure. Another scan of the room revealed the barred window up high- too small for them to fit through- and a metal door. He focused on it, trying to sidetrack his attention from her, and scanned it for weaknesses.

There were no cameras around, and hers was the only heartbeat he could hear. She knew the guy behind all this, so would she know?

“Are there guards?”

There was a pause, like she was taken off guard, but he refused to risk looking. “Oh- no. I… think he wanted to avoid the risk of-” her voice wavered. “Of… you getting sidetracked by someone other than me.”

A low sound he couldn’t recall ever making before tore itself from his throat. “ _Bastard_ ,” he snarled. “Well, that should make it _easy_ then.” He was angry. An incandescent rage that anyone could be so petty, so cruel, as to sacrifice innocents for petty revenge.

Akira used that rage to force himself up, away from her and towards the door.

He took a moment to consider it, to remember what it felt like when his body had lunged across the room. And then he moved, slamming himself forward against the edge of the door. He was expecting it to budge, or hold with a groan so he’d have to do it again.

He was not expecting it to _crumple_.

He picked himself up, extracting himself from the metal.

“What,” he said, “the _actual fuck.”_

That was cool. That was terrifying. He had no idea how to feel about this, so he shook his head and hurried back towards her. He was holding his breath again, just getting closer without losing it was _really goddamn hard_ but he wasn’t going to just _leave_ her.

Akira did not want to touch her. He didn’t know how he would react if he made actual skin contact and _felt_ the warmth and heartbeat-

_No! No, no, no, no, no, focus._

They needed to manacles off of her, though. So he clenched his teeth until they hurt and reached for the metal. His hands were very obviously shaking and he could see the fear in her eyes, the way her lips pursed bloodlessly, but-

_But, but, but, just get out of here._

The metal tore like paper, and it scared him. It scared him more that just brushing against her made the thirst flare into something near impossible, and the moment the both manacles were gone he flung himself back to the door. He curled his arms around himself as he watched her slowly push herself to her feet. She wobbled, but caught her balance and looked at him.

He swallowed and turned to peek down the hallway. No cameras, no guards. Nodding to her, he turned and led the way.

It turned out that the building was deserted, or close to it, because they didn’t see _anyone_ as they snuck out the side and into the trees, to the road. They paused awkwardly, looking at each other.

“Do you have a place to go?” he asked hesitantly, edging back when the burn in his throat started pushing up again. “Somewhere safe where he won’t find you?” Not that he’d be able to help if she didn’t, but… it felt wrong not to ask.

She smiled tightly, but there a genuine tinge to it. “I do, yes. I have some family away from everything, and I doubt he’ll care enough to look.”

Akira nodded, anxious energy curling in his stomach.

“Do you?”

Akira’s head snapped up. “Huh? Oh, uh-” No. No, he didn’t. He ran a hand through his hair. “I- uh- I’ll… figure something out. Away from people.” He didn’t. He didn’t have anywhere to go. He definitely could not go home. But…

He bit the inside of his lip to keep it from trembling. He was _not_ going to start crying.

She was frowning at him with concern. “You’ll have to eat.”

“I know.” His lips thinned and he looked away. “I’ll… figure something out.” Or not. He could just hide in the forest away from everything and just… not. “Actually, you know about the whole-” he waved his hand, “-vampires apparently- obviously- existing. Is there any sort of actual reliable source on any of this? I’m not expecting a manual or anything, but just a website that actually filters the facts from the fiction would be nice. Because I’m flying blind, and if the sun is going to set me on fire I’d like to know and-” He cut himself off. He was rambling, like he always did when he was really nervous about something.

What was he going to _do?_

Her expression was sympathetic, fear muted in the face of his flailing. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, it just made his stomach twist.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I don’t know much either. I can at least tell you that you won’t be set on fire- although from what I’ve gathered you _will_ sunburn more easily. But the community is very secretive, very hidden and exclusive, and outsiders don’t know much. I would direct you to someone if I could but…”

“They go out of their way to hide themselves, and you generally can’t actually tell unless they tell you,” Akira guessed with a sigh.

She winced. “That about sums it up, yes. I really am sorry- for this, and what happened.” That same guilt flickered across her face and he sighed.

“It’s not your fault. I made the decision to step in, and I wouldn’t have changed it even if I’d known what he was. I couldn’t just… turn a blind eye.” He didn’t know if he regretted it or not, but he wanted to say not even if only out of _spite_ for that bastard who’d said he would.

“Still. Thank you all the same.”

He shrugged, but before he could respond the wind shifted, blowing her scent directly to him, and he recoiled and covered his face again. “I- You’re welcome, but- we need to go. We need to get away from here and I need to get away from you.” He was trembling, the thirst crawling up his throat and making his head buzz and he took a couple of steps back and to the side just to be safe. “Which way are you going?”

She hesitated for a moment, then pointed to the right along the road behind him. “Okinawa’s that way, I can grab a train to Tokyo and disappear.”

Oh, they weren’t far from Inaba then. He nodded and took several steps back into the trees to let her pass. “Right. Good luck, then. Be careful.”

“You too.” She sent him another weak smile. “I hope you figure things out, and I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.”

Akira shook his head. “It’s fine, I wouldn’t expect it. Just being around me is dangerous enough. Be careful of cars.”

She grimace. “Believe me, if I see one I’m hiding in the trees, sore feet be damned. I’ll walk to Okinawa, thanks.”

A laugh bubbled from his throat. “I guess I won’t worry too much, then.”

They exchanged tentative smiles before she set her jaw started walking. Akira let out a slow breath and turned in the opposite direction.

He couldn’t go home, but… at least Inaba would give him some sort of place to start. He started walking, keeping an ear out for cars.

He didn’t know how long it had been. Didn’t know how far it was. Didn’t know what to do. It felt like he didn’t know _anything_ , and this time he didn’t bother to fight back the tears.

At least he could still cry. That was one myth proven wrong.

It took a while for him to notice. That he was slowing down, getting tired, stumbling over the occasional rock rather than deftly avoiding them on autopilot. That the world was starting to get hazy even without tears, that his mind was getting fuzzy from more than thirst. He stumbled to a stop to lean against a tree, breathing heavily. His trembling had gotten worse and he felt exhausted. Nothing like the person who’d crumpled a solid metal door like paper just earlier- a few hours ago? Had it been that long? That short?

Time didn’t work right anymore. He had no way of checking, no way of knowing how long he’d missed in that room being- being changed. Altered. Turned.

Akira sighed and leaned fully against the tree, wondering if this was when he was supposed to do the internal “woe is my monster self” monologue. Honestly, he really didn’t care. His only concern was potentially killing someone; he could deal with the whole blood thing. But in order to _get_ that blood…

That was where the problem came in. He just didn’t _know_. There were too many contradictory myths, and following the wrong ones would probably kill him. And potentially other people.

Also he wasn’t any more thrilled at the idea of killing animals than people (honestly he kind of liked animals more than people a lot of the time, but that was neither here nor there-). Would “dead blood” kill him? Did donated blood count? The guy- god he didn’t even know his name, or hers- had used blood from a vial- presumably his own, but he could just be carrying around another random vampire’s- so was it fine? Or-

Akira shook his head viciously and shoved himself up. He wasn’t going to solve anything sitting around asking questions. He needed to find the answers to those questions, and he wouldn’t do that standing here.

So he kept walking, noting his rapidly flagging strength and the fact that his thirst was very rapidly overtaking his thoughts again. The road passed beneath him, early morning fog rising from the Samegawa river to his right. His throat burned. The way he was now-

Stopping abruptly, Akira stared hard at the ground beneath him. It was swaying- or rather he was swaying- but that only made him more certain that as he was now, he very well might not be able to control himself if he stumbled into another person.

If he kept going, he would run into a human eventually. What then?

He knew what then. And that- that wasn’t an option. So… what did he do? He didn’t know how to safely get blood, but he couldn’t take it directly from the source. In order to do that he’d have to attack someone, and he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. Not the way his body was desperately aching for it.

So- so- so-

Akira stumbled sideways and leaned heavily against the floodwall as tears fell from his eyes again. Did that just leave the one option open? If he couldn’t safely get blood and wouldn’t risk unsafely getting it-

Akira closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to die. He really, really didn’t. But if it was between him, and someone else-

That wasn’t even an option.

He slid to the ground and buried his face in his knees and just- breathed. Allowed the tremors to wrack his body. Allowed the fear and pain to catch up with him and drown out the anger. Allowed the tears to fall and the breaths to catch and allowed himself to fall apart. No one else was here. No one else would be here. He was going to die alone and unknown and painfully and confused and it was so. Damn. _Frustrating._

Akira didn’t regret trying to save her. Didn’t regret successfully saving her. But everything else…

Everything else he could have done without.

He didn’t know how long he sat there trying to reconcile everything and force his emotions back under control. Long enough for the barest hints of light to glimmer over the horizon, turning the word that pre-dawn grey that he’d always found delightfully eerie.

And then he heard voices, and panic spiked. He shoved himself up to try to run in the opposite direction, but the world spun and he nearly planted face-first into the ground instead. He caught himself on the wall, but the world was spinning and his stomach was cramping and aching and his throat was burning and there was no way he’d be running anywhere like this.

On the flip side, it was highly unlikely that he’d be successfully attacking anyone either, a single hit would probably knock him flat, so… he supposed there was that. That didn’t mean he couldn’t at least _try_ to avoid other people, so he leaned on the wall and tried to at least stumble away.

He made it three steps before his knees gave out and he hissed in pain and frustration. This was just _great_.

The voices were getting closer, and he could make out the words from one of the people now. Granted she wasn’t exactly being _quiet._ “-and it’s weird but I can’t help but get this bad feeling, y’know?”

“Your _instincts_ again, huh?”

“Ugh, don’t sound so skeptical! It’s just- he’s been missing for over a day, and it’s unlike him, and I know his parents are pissed thinking he’s just out but-”

“You think something happened.”

“Yes! At least _someone’s_ on my side.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t believe you! Just that “bad feeling” isn’t much to go on.”

Akira blinked, processing the words and the voices. Were they… talking about him? Just over a day? It had felt like a week during that torment, but it had only been a few hours? And only a few more hours to become like this… Well, at least his parents were the same as always. Obviously he just wasn’t trying hard enough, it wasn’t like there something was out of his control or beyond him or had happened to him or anything. Dammit.

Officer Satonaka was the same as ever too, though, and that was more of a relief. He liked her; she was genuine.

He liked the idea of her finding him like this a lot less. Dirty, his own blood on his shirt, exhausted, and, oh yeah, technically dead. Undead. Whatever. Vampire.

God he was so thirsty.

_No. No, no, no. Stay away get away from me please-_

He needed to get away before he hurt someone. Even as weak as he was, he wasn’t sure Satonaka would be willing to risk hurting him, and he didn’t know who else she had with her. Well, Hanamura, but he hadn’t recognized the other guy’s voice.

 _Either way, I can’t be here, I need to get away_.

The fear was thrumming back to life beneath the pain and hunger and thirst. Logically, he knew they could probably overpower him easily like this. But he didn’t know enough about this whole thing, didn’t know if his body would suddenly get a boost around so-called _prey_ or something, and he couldn’t risk killing someone. He _couldn’t_. He didn’t want that blood on his hands.

But his body wasn’t cooperating, and he stumbled again as the world tilted and he couldn’t quite stifle his pained noise as he hit the ground. He immediately swallowed any more back and tried to scramble to his feet, but the damage had been done.

“Did you hear that?” Hanamura hissed, and Akira felt something cold settle in his chest because they were way closer than he’d thought they were.

“Is anyone there?” Satonaka called loudly. Akira scrabbled at the wall desperately for purchase. He needed up, he needed away, he needed-

“There!”

_-shit!_

There was no way he’d be be able to get away. He could barely stay on his feet, much less _run,_ much less _outrun Satonaka._ Earlier he’d have been able to, when he broke down the door, but now… now he was helpless.

_No, no, no, stay away please I don’t want to hurt you-_

“Hey, are you- _Kurusu?!”_

Akira gritted his teeth as he leaned against the wall. They were close enough now that he could catch a hint of their scents, and it _burned_ . He swallowed desperately, trying to stave off his body’s reaction, but he was _starving_ and it was _right there-_

He shook his head violently and stumbled a couple of steps away from them.

“Hey-” she stepped closer, he could hear it-

“Don’t!” He snapped, managing another step away. It burned- she was too close- he wanted- he needed-

“Kurusu, wait-”

“I said _don’t!”_ he snapped again, spinning around to glare at her, not realizing until their eyes widened that it was a mistake. But they’d seen whatever it was that had given it away- had his eyes changed color? They usually did in fiction, and that’s what they were staring at- and there was no taking it back. He took another step back, terror thrumming alongside the burning thirst. He had no idea what would happen now.

Satonaka, Hanamura, and the other two he vaguely recognized from a couple years back. Shirogane and… Narukami? Yeah, Dojima’s nephew. Highly unlikely he’d be able to overpower any of them, much less all four, and that was- good. It was good.

Satonaka breathed out. “Kurusu… what happened?”

He flinched. “I-” he didn’t know how to respond, where to even begin. Would they even believe him? He didn’t know, it was hard to focus, he was so tired and hungry and they were right there-

Akira snapped his head away hissing out a breath. “There was a guy trying to drag a woman into his car, and I thought he was just an ordinary creep so I stepped in to help her. He… wasn’t. Ordinary.” He tried to focus, tried to will his attention away from their thrumming heartbeats and the scent of-

_No, no, no!_

She blew out a breath. “That’s- god. Ugh. Okay, okay. So this is- not good.”

“Guess your instincts were right,” Shirogane murmured, and Hanamura sighed.

“I didn’t say they weren’t, I said they were too vague.”

Akira clung to his shirt, leaning against the wall, trying desperately to ground himself from the screaming need in his head. It was fine, he was fine, they were over there, he could handle-

The wind shifted, blowing their scents directly to him, and his thirst flared and nearly blinded him with the desperate need. He flung himself back and desperately brought his arm to his face, frantically trying to cling to his rapidly deteriorating control.

“Wha- Kurusu?” Satonaka took another step towards him.

“ _Don’t!”_ He could hear the desperate fear in his own voice, but he didn’t care. “Don’t come near me. Just- stay back. Please, I don’t-” His voice broke and he clenched his jaw to try to force control. She had to stay away; he somehow knew that if she got any closer he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. “ _Please_ , just stay away from me.”

She was staring at him with a stricken expression. “Kurusu- hey, I can help- we can help you, y’know? You don’t have to run.” Her hands were out placatingly and- she didn’t get it. _She didn’t get it_. Akira shook his head and took a step back.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Hanamura stepped next to her and Akira tightened his jaw at the addition of his scent’s proximity. “We’re not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

 _They didn’t get it._ “I’m not afraid of _you_ hurting _me!”_ he snapped back, digging his nails into his arm as tears burned his eyes again. It was too much, everything hurt and his throat burned and he was so, so scared.

He saw the moment it clicked, the realization of why he was trying so hard to stay away, as Satonaka’s expression changed from stricken to devasted. “Oh, Kurusu…”

Hanamura hissed out a breath. “Right, that’s- a problem. Sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair with a grimace at Akira, “should have realized.”

So they were… familiar with vampires? “I- I don’t know what to do, I don’t… I don’t know what accurate and what’s not and I can’t-” he faltered, uncertain how to finish that sentence. It was getting harder to focus, and the wind _did not help._

Hanamura opened his mouth to say something, but Narukami touched his shoulder and stepped past him. Akira flinched back and started to protest but Narukami held up a hand. “It’s alright. I’m fairly certain that you couldn’t harm me even if you weren’t in such a weakened state.” He slowly moved towards Akira as he held his breath and eyed the silver-haired man warily. The certainty in the man’s eyes and posture made him warily hopeful, but…

Narukami stopped just in front of him, close enough that Akira could reach out an touch him if he so desired, and it made him nervous. But Narukami seemed to know what he was talking about and didn’t seem concerned. Akira’s lungs chose that moment to run out of air and he took a breath, entire body stiffening at the scent. It was- different. It wasn’t the alluring _wantneedtake_ of the others’. It made something in him rise in alarm, the absolute certainty that he was _dangerous_ rising up. But it wasn’t threatening or malicious, and his eyes were calm and kind, so while his instincts warned him to be wary, he didn’t feel threatened.

“What…” Akira hesitated. It seemed rude to ask what he was, even if he was curious.

The corner of Narukami’s mouth quirked up. “I’m a dhampir.”

A dhampir, half human half vampire. “Oh,” he said quietly. That was why he’d been certain that Akira couldn’t hurt him, and confident that he wouldn’t try. While the scent was there, it was muted by the danger warnings of Akira’s instincts. That was a relief. “So… what now? I can’t… really go home.” He didn’t want to anyway. He could only imagine his parents’ reactions, and it would definitely not be anything good.

“Well before anything, you need to deal with your thirst. If you eat, you’ll have a much easier time controlling yourself.” His expression was sympathetic at Akira’s cringe. “Unpleasant as it may seem…”

Akira shook his head. “It’s not that, it’s… I don’t- I’m not sure I could stop. If it were a matter of taking the edge off and then being able to just stop I’d be fine. But if I started… I don’t know that I could stop myself.”

Narukami smiled at him. “That won’t be a problem.” He reached into his pocket and Akira stiffened as he pulled a pocket knife out and flipped it open. At Akira’s wide-eyed look, he sent him a reassuring smile. “As a dhampir my blood is more potent than a human’s, so you’ll need, and be inclined to take, less of it anyway to avoid getting sick. And I won’t let you take too much, even if it turns out that you can handle it better than most. Generally- well, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t apply to your situation.”

Akira sent him a questioning look and he sighed and continued.

“Generally, the Sire of a Newborn will give them their blood to help stabilize them once their own blood runs out, which the body does fairly quickly as you’ve seen. Once that happens, thirst and exhaustion set in quickly if they don’t get replenishment. As I said, though, your situation is… different.”

It was. Akira was incredibly glad that _he_ hadn’t been there when he’d awoken. Even the idea of taking more of his blood was utterly revolting; even with his thirst clawing at his throat. He shuddered and nodded. “I- You’re sure?”

“I am.” Narukami sent him a faint smile. “Calm down.”

Akira took a slow breath, trying to focus on Narukami to ignore the others, and nodded. In any other situation he’d have admired the dexterous flick of Narukami’s knife, blade flashing silver in the light and quick enough that it remained free of blood, and he flipped it closed and slid it back in his pocket with a smooth movement as he cupped his hand to keep the blood contained.

But Akira was too busy staring as the liquid pooling in his hand around the slash. His thirst crawled its way up his throat, and his mouth _ached_ with need. But the instinctual wariness was still there, so rather than immediately lunging forward he flicked another glance at Narukami’s face just to make sure he was really alright with this. He took a step closer to Akira and lifted his hand closer to him in silent offering.

A shudder crawled up his spine as the last of his body’s instinctual restraints fell away and he leaned forward to pull the hand to his mouth.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected it to taste like, but it wasn’t… this. He’d half expected it to be as awful as the vials of blood had been, a lukewarm and metallic taste that coated his mouth and throat and made him feel sick.

But it… wasn’t. It was warmer, for one, almost hot, which shouldn’t be surprising since it was coming from a living (or semi-living; animate?) being. The overwhelmingly metallic taste was gone too. Hints of it were there, but it tasted rich and _good_. It was strange… it was rich and warm, but there were hints of crispness and something sharp and tingly and-

He didn’t know how to describe it, really, because it was far more complex than he’d expected it to be. Than it logically should have been, considering it was _blood_.

But he supposed it came with being a vampire. Maybe a magic thing like in some games or shows, or maybe there was a scientific reason behind it. He already knew venom acted as a tranquilizer, and that it was blood and venom mixed that _turned_ people. So surely there was a scientific reason behind this too, but he couldn’t even begin to guess _how. Why_ was rather obvious considering vampires wouldn’t want to starve but the taste was normally _awful._

Did it differ between bloods like it did food? It would make sense… He idly wondered if being a dhampir made Narukami’s blood taste better, or if blood was blood. It really was good, though, like something warm with a hint of crispness that revitalized you and-

He was distantly aware of a hand squeezing his shoulder, and a voice calling his name-

“Kurusu, enough.”

He didn’t want to, it tasted good and made him feel better as the aches and burn left his body but- but-

Akira pulled back abruptly, reaching up to cover his mouth as though to curb his body’s reaction. He forced himself to breathe evenly and not reach out as Narukami pulled his hand back, focusing instead on taking stock of his body. The aching thirst and hunger was gone, and he barely felt tired anymore.

The haziness over his mind also lifted, and all at once the situation caught up with him- especially the blood on his chin that he scambled to wipe away- and embarrassment and humiliation made him bury his face in his hands. That had happened.

Oh _god_ that had happened.

A quiet huff of laughter made him peek up to glare at Narukami, who was watching him with warm amusement. The wary instincts seemed to have faded entirely, and it piqued his interest, but he left it alone for now. He could think of a few of plausible theories anyway.

“Feel better?”

“Define better,” Akira muttered, face still over heated. “Physically yes, but I’m not sure I’ll be getting over the humiliation anytime soon.”

Narukami’s eyes softened. “All things considered, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. You have unusually firm control, the fact that you were within easy attacking distance of all of us and still held back while starving to death should outweigh any embarrassment that comes with _actually starving to death.”_ The last few words were emphasized pointedly, and Akira couldn’t deny that they made him feel better.

“I guess that’s true. Thank you.”

He shrugged, expression warm. “I couldn’t have just left you, and this was the most logical solution. Think you can handle people now?”

Akira hesitated a moment, eyes flicking over to where the others had backed off to give them some space, and carefully breathed in. Their scent still made something pleasant curl in his stomach- the same way walking by an open bakery door while mildly hungry made you feel- but it wasn’t anything like earlier. He wasn’t tempted or concerned about his control at all, and he relaxed with relief. “Yes, it won’t be a problem.”

“I figured, you’re one of the ones with a better sense of control. You’ll get along with Minato and Mitsuru, I bet.” He tilted his head. “Come on then, we’ll get everything sorted out.”

That caught Akira’s interest. “So there are others nearby?”

“I wouldn’t say nearby, exactly. I’m the only one around here, and I’m in and out. Most of the… sort of organization that I’m in is in either Tokyo or Iwatodai, though we keep an eye out for supernatural activity throughout most of Japan. As much as we can at least.” He smiled at Akira again. “We can figure out options for you, depending on what you want to do. Although you should expect Chie to spend the next few hours hovering over you, just a warning.”

Akira tilted his head, falling in step with him as they made their way towards the others. “Oh?”

“She likes you,” Narukami shrugged. “Apparently you remind her of me.”

“How so?”

Narukami smirked at him. “Everyone thinks you’re as straight-laced as they come, but in actuality you can’t stay out of trouble.” He turned back forward. “She’s spent the past few hours regaling us with your various misadventures she’s caught you in the past couple of years.”

“Look, Tora-chan is probably possessed by a demon and the destruction she caused was not my fault.”

They were just in earshot, and Satonaka snorted at him. “The fact that you got her high on catnip and then hid catnip in various places around the shopping district was totally unrelated, huh?”

Akira shrugged, lips tugging up as he remembered the chaos. “In my defense, I was left unsupervised while bored. And Junes makes buying catnip really easy.”

“Ah, so it’s Yosuke’s fault.”

“You can’t pin this on me, Chie!”

He chuckled as the two of them began bickering, easing the anxiety in his chest at the uncertainty of the future.

Shirogane sent them an exasperated look before turning to Akira. “We’ll need to head to the station to get the human side of things sorted out. Would you like your parents to meet us there?”

A flash of something cold flickered through his chest and he quickly shook his head. “No. I think it would be better if they didn’t know.” He saw the look they exchanged and grimaced. “I don’t think they would take it well, and it would be easier for everyone involved if they weren’t involved.”

Satonaka hesitated and he could see her trying to form an argument, if only for the sake of argument, but she sighed in defeat and nodded. “Yeah, probably. They’d probably just freak out.”

“Assuming they didn’t disown me on the spot,” Akira said dryly, “They’d either get very passive-aggressive about the ‘natural order’ or start pushing for me to go elsewhere where their reputation couldn’t get ruined.”

That got some frowns and he shrugged uncomfortably.

Hanamura sighed. “Well, we’ll take care of things. If they suck that much then maybe you’re better off with the Shadow Ops.” He grinned at Akira. “Fair warning, we’ve got multiple people with mother-hen complexes so be prepared for hovering.”

“Oh god, Akihiko,” Satonaka muttered.

Shirogane chuckled. “There is that, yes.” She? He? (Akira wasn’t sure, he’d heard both and seen both so… hmm. Was it rude to ask?) sent him a small smile. “There is much to take care of, and we’ll need more details of what happened-” oh, joy, “-but we’ll do what we can to help.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it, because I don’t have any idea what I’m doing.”

“That’s not unusual,” Narukami assured him, taking the lead. “We’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.”

Satonaka bumped his arm with a wink. “Just leave everything to us.”

“Quit trying to sound cool, it’s not working.”

“Shut up Yosuke, it is too!”

Akira couldn’t quite bite back his smile as he followed Narukami, Shirogane to his side and the other two bickering behind them.

The past couple of days had been awful, but things were looking up.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh this'll be short, I said. Under 5k words, I said.
> 
> I was a fool. Here is 8k words of the setup of a vampire fic I wasn't planning on getting around to anytime soon. Welp. Guess I have the setup. (Just what I need, another wip in my Drive-)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this bit of AU randomness!


	17. Day 17 - Dark Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was familiar.
> 
> He couldn't pin why, but she was, and she didn't remember either. What were they missing? Did he... really want to know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered why Minato never seemed the least bit wary or uncomfortable around Aigis, considering he was hosting Death (who we already know has some influence on him) and Aigis had sealed them together.
> 
> I wish we knew a bit more about that night on the bridge, and what happened with his parents. Alas, we don’t, so instead we get to draw our own conclusions. Thus, my own headcanons come into play. Including the fact that Minato is the only Protag with Good Parents™- hence why his tragic backstory is losing them, rather than surviving them.
> 
> Warning Tags: Flashbacks, anxiety/panic attack, PTSD, car accident, discussions of sacrifice/self-sacrifice

She was familiar. Had been since he’d first caught sight of her. And talking to her had only compounded that feeling, something in his chest tightening at her mere presence, not even touching on her  _ recognition _ .

It wasn’t what Junpei and Akihiko would have joked about. He felt uneasy, the tightness the result of discomfort- almost  _ fear _ . Of what, he didn’t know. But it made him curious, and self preservation had never been his strong suit.

So when he found her in that forest, and she stepped close and called him  _ important _ \- something in him said it wasn’t a good thing, and he decided to find out what this was. It wasn’t nothing, he  _ knew _ her, and she clearly knew him too, and he wanted to find out why.

Minato puzzled it over in his head as they walked back to the manor. He watched her from the corner of his eye, her blank expression and  _ off _ movements. That wasn’t what made him uneasy, though, and he couldn’t figure out what it was.

She was dangerous, and everything in him was saying to be wary of her, and yet he was still drawn in.

The feeling only grew when Ikutsuki formally introduced her to them.

“This is Aigis. As you can see, she’s a “mechanical maiden”.”

She inclined her head. “I am Aigis. My mission is to destroy Shadows. I have been assigned to SEES, effective immediately.” Something about that sent a jolt through him, uncertainty and dread tangling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why- wasn’t that a good thing? Especially if it could provide them with more backup.

He tuned the others out as he watched her, trying desperately to remember why he knew her. He couldn’t…

Ikutsuki continued. “Anti-Shadow weapons were created ten years ago to combat the uncontrollable Shadows. Aigis was the last to be made… and she’s the only one that remains today.”

“An anti-Shadow weapon…” Mitsuru stared, wide-eyed. “Does that mean she-?”

Aigis turned to look at her. “Yes. I am capable of operating the Persona “Palladion”.”

_ Palladion _ .

A sharp jolt shot through Minato, pain flashing through his head and chest and nearly making his knees give out.  _ “Come, Palladion, and-!” _

He caught himself and swallowed hard with a glance around. No one else seemed to have noticed, thankfully, but-

_ What is this? Why-? _

“She suffered major damage in combat, and has remained in the lab ever since.” Ikutsuki explained, head tilted thoughtfully. “It’s still unclear as to why she suddenly reactivated herself this morning… Well, I hope you all get along.”

_ The moon hung high- the cars were on fire- his ears rang and his body hurt from being thrown from the car’s window- two shapes across the bridge- _

Minato closed his eyes with a quiet breath, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose in an attempt to suppress the pain. He… was starting to get an idea of what might have happened, but it didn’t explain his wariness of her. The accident ten years ago, the bridge, and now the familiarity and the figures- it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together, but it didn’t explain why he felt almost afraid of her. After all, if she had been there, wouldn’t that mean she’d saved him from the Shadow she must have been fighting?

He couldn’t remember.

Fuuka moved forward with a fascinated expression. “An anti-Shadow weapon with a will of her own… This is amazing!” Ah right, Fuuka was interested in advanced technology. No wonder she was excited.

“Um, by the way…” Yukari interjected uncertainly. “When I saw you earlier, it seemed like you knew him.” She glanced at Minato, and he felt his stomach drop as he was suddenly the center of attention.

Aigis looked directly at him, leaving him feeling like he’d been pinned by a spotlight. “Yes,” she said firmly. “It is very important for me to be by his side.”

There was absolutely no reason for him to feel like that was a threat, and yet-

“Why?”

It was out of his mouth before he could think to stop himself from asking.

She tilted her head. “I am not sure. It is not logical; it is simply a feeling I have. That you are very important, so I must remain by your side.”

That didn’t explain it. He couldn’t remember what had happened on the bridge, and it was clear that she couldn’t either. But it was obvious that  _ something _ had. Did it have something to do with that Shadow?

The others looked bewildered, glancing between them, and he tried to ignore the mild jealousy in Junpei’s eyes, the wary uncertainty in Yukari’s.

“Hmm, perhaps her identification system is malfunctioning,” Ikutsuki mused curiously. “Or maybe she’s still half-asleep… This is quite interesting.”

Interesting was certainly one word for it.

The uneasy feeling lingered in his chest throughout the day, even as he watched her interacting with the others. Ikutsuki-san excused himself to make preparations for them to leave, assuring them that they would have the rest of the afternoon and evening to enjoy themselves, and they would leave the next morning.

Minato turned it over in his head even as he was dragged into participating in their group activities, but the feeling that her attention wasn’t a good thing didn’t fade, even into the evening when they were invited to dinner.

It was good- the food was delicious, and the rest of SEES seemed to be enjoying themselves- even with the tension between Yukari and the Kirijos and the new inclusion of Aigis. But he couldn’t relax, a knot of uncertainty settled in his chest.

He ate silently and listened to the others and hoped he wouldn’t be roped into conversation. He couldn’t help but glance towards Aigis occasionally, nervous about ignoring her presence. It still made no sense, there was no reason she should be a threat to him. Especially when they didn’t even  _ remember _ what happened.

That didn’t erase the feelings though, so he watched her from the corner of his eye with occasional glances over. But trying to remember and turning it over and over in his mind was giving him a headache, and the boisterous laughter and arguments between Junpei and Akihiko and Yukari wasn’t helping.

He glanced over again and found his gaze meeting Aigis’ head-on, a jolt of ice spiking through his chest. Her eyes were a bright blue, brighter than his own, and for a moment-

_ -the moon was bright and there were fires all around. He tried desperately not to look behind him- her sad and hopeful smile burning with the flames etched into his mind and he didn’t want to see it- _

_ -one of the shapes that had been fighting was approaching him- _

_ -blue fire in her hand- _

_ -eyes glowing blueblueblue- _

Minato pushed himself to his feet, forcing his face to remain blank, forcing his chest to keep still against the panic rising in it, and found the others looking at him.

“Minato?” Fuuka asked worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, brushing his hair to the side and ruthlessly crushing the billowing emotions back down into the blankness. They could wait ten minutes for him to get alone. “Just tired. Too much sun and not enough water, I think, and it’s giving me a headache. I’m going to go ahead to bed.”

“Oh, okay,” Yukari frowned at him. “I hope you feel better.”

“Aww, you’re leaving the party way too early, dude!”

“Nah, it’s a good idea if you’ve been out in the sun too long,” Akihiko nodded to him seriously. “Get some rest.”

“Ah, athlete's advice huh? As expected of Akihiko-senpai!”

Mitsuru ignored them to nod at him. “Alright then, get some rest. We’re meeting at the dock by ten tomorrow morning.” Minato waved over his shoulder in acknowledgement, and slipped out of the room.

He felt Aigis’ eyes on him the whole way out.

Rather than taking a left to their rooms in the main hall, Minato took a right to slip out of the building entirely. He followed the path from the mansion down towards the beach, pace picking up with every step until he was nearly sprinting down the last stretch of the path- racing against the building pressure in his chest and head. He reached the beach and cut to the left, aiming for the rocks jutting out into the water.

Pulling to a stop beside them, Minato leaned against the flattest one and tried to breathe. The incident ten years ago, the accident on the bridge, it had been-

_ -Minato was pushing himself up to try to see out of the window and over the concrete side-walls to catch a glimpse of the moon-splashed ocean. His parents had long given up trying to get him to get some sleep, he was too interested in the scenery outside. His dad didn’t usually take him to conferences, so this had been an adventure! He didn’t want to miss  _ **_any_ ** _ of it! _

_ His dad was singing softly along with the radio in an attempt to stay awake as he drove, and his mother was peeking at the stars through the windshield. Tokyo didn’t have stars, so it was really cool to see them. They had picked out constellations earlier at the rest stop while they prepared for the last stretch before the hotel, and it had been nice to see his mom and dad laughing and poking at each other again. _

_ They’d both been tired since dad got his promotion and started coming home later, or leaving for conferences, and he’d heard them debating about whether he should switch jobs. He didn’t want to say anything because he knew they worked hard, but he missed having his parents staying up late watching movies with him, or randomly dancing in the kitchen when a song came on. Dad had mentioned that he’d found a few, and mom was still uncertain that he should risk it and how it might come across to switch. They were still talking, and Minato decided that he’d agree with dad if they asked him. He wanted them to start laughing all the time again. _

_ He let out a huff of annoyance. He couldn’t get high enough with the seatbelt holding him down. But- _

_ He snuck a quick peek at his parents and, satisfied that they were distracted, scooted back and pulled his feet up under him. His hand sneakily reached down to the seatbelt clip and prepared to push himself up. Just for a few seconds! Just to get a glimpse, then he’d sit back down! _

_ Ready- go! _

_ Minato pressed the button and pushed himself up to see. _

_ “Minato,” his mother sighed, but there was laughter in her voice. _

_ His father chuckled and looked in the mirror with a teasing light in his eyes. “The music isn’t loud enough that we couldn’t hear that young man. Sit down and buckle up before you’re abducted.” _

_ “By what?” Minato asked curiously, but before his father could respond there was a bright flash of light from the distant right. _

_ Minato turned to look just as the shockwave hit, and suddenly everything was spinning. He shouted as he flew from the seat and hit the roof, and then there was another one and he wasn’t connected to anything was free falling through the air and he felt too hot for a second- _

_ He slammed into something, felt it give behind him with the loud shriek of shattering glass and a moment later he was tumbling across concrete. It hurt, a dull shock and ache through his body with sharp jabs from the glass and scrapes against the concrete. He lay there for a moment, dazed, the world still spinning and a ringing in his ears. He didn’t understand. What had happened? _

_Minato slowly looked around, trying to think around the dizziness. His body kinda hurt, but it didn’t hurt that bad so it was okay. Right? Why_ ** _didn’t_** _it hurt? He’d gotten scrapes better than this that hurt more. His head kind of hurt, but mostly he was dizzy._

_ Everything was really bright, and it was hot around him. That was weird. Wait, why wasn’t he in the car? Or- had he been thrown out? What had happened? He blinked and looked around, frowning in confusion. Why was there fire? Where was the car? Where were mom and dad? _

_ He turned and froze, staring uncomprehendingly. His- his mom was there. She was- bleeding? No, she shouldn’t be bleeding, why was she hurt? Was- was that dad on the other side of her? He was leaning against the steering wheel in a way that looked uncomfortable. Was he hurt too? _

_ His mom reached out a hand and touched dad’s shoulder for a moment, then slowly turned her head away, towards the window towards him and- no, why was she crying? He didn’t like it when she cried, even when it was just over movies. She shouldn’t be crying now! She turned her head and saw him, and he saw the way she stared and then the sheer joy and relief that lit up her eyes. She smiled tearily at him, mouthing “ _ **_live_ ** _ ”, and- _

_ Minato gasped as the fire  _ **_flared_ ** _ , and suddenly the car- his mom and dad- _

_ -gone?- _

_ -no- _

_ -no they couldn’t- _

_ -they couldn’t be- _

_ Something rose off to the other side, he saw it out of the corner of his eye, and he struggled to push himself up, to figure out what was going on. A… building? In the distance, twisted and strange and everything around him had a weird greenish color. _

_ His head snapped up as two flashes of light collided above him, then crashed down onto the bridge. He cried out as cars were thrown away, tumbling past him, and the wind whipped past and blew away the fires. _

_ When he hesitantly opened his eyes, the area they had landed in was covered in smoke. He stared, wide-eyed, as the smoke was lit up with flashes of light and the sound of ricocheting bullets- like in movies. Two figures flashed in the light. A… girl? It looked like it and, she was attacking a monster? It was twice as big as her, and a cloak flared around it. “Come, Palladion and- gugh-!” He saw a sword slash out, and a string of long rectangular shapes flared out, before more smoke rose and obscured it. _

_ Then there was a bright flash of blue, and it fell silent. _

_ Minato’s eye widened and he found himself trembling as the girl emerged from the smoke. She was a robot! Electricity was sparking along her body, and she held a blue flame in her hand. He couldn’t move as she loomed over him, staring up into blue eyes that glowed in the reflected light of the moon, the fire. _

_ “I am sorry,” she said. “But I am too damaged to win this fight. I must entrust this Shadow you, in hopes that you can seal it away until it can be destroyed.” _

_ What? He didn’t understand, what was going on, what did she mean, were mom and dad really- _

_ She leaned down and pressed the flames to his chest, and he screamed as they flared and he was overwhelmed by the fire- _

-Minato gasped for breath, shaking as he leaned fully against the rocks. His cheek hurt from where he must have scraped it when he fell to his knees. There were tears on his cheeks, and he sniffed and wiped at them.

That was why.

Minato let out a choked breath and twisted to lean his back against the rocks. He tugged the buttons on his shirt open- he’d figured dinner with their corporation-head sponsor warranted at least a button up and shoes rather than a t-shirt and sandals, not that it mattered he was getting distracted- and looked down at the prominent scar on his chest that none of the doctors had been able to explain.

Now he knew why.

Why there was a part of him that was scared of her. Why he knew her and she him. Why… why the memories of his parents’ deaths had always been kind of blurry.

Maybe even why he could use multiple Personas.

And- oh, oh there were things that made sense now. Thanatos; the way it had  _ hurt _ when he’d summoned him, why it had taken so much effort to do so, why he’d had to tear through Orpheus to answer Minato’s unknowing call. He’d torn through Aigis’ seal, hadn’t he? Was Pharos connected to this? He knew things, and he wasn’t a Persona, and he didn’t remember-

-didn’t… remember…

Minato closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the rocks. He was the host to, the seal of, a Shadow. And not just any Shadow. An Arcana Shadow.

_ Thanatos. _ God of Death.

Death.

Number Thirteen.

Not twelve Arcana Shadows to erase the Dark Hour. Thirteen. Death,  _ Thanatos _ , was thirteen.

_ “I must entrust this Shadow you, in hopes that you can seal it away until it can be destroyed.” _

_ “No one can escape time. It delivers all to the same end. You can’t plug your ears and cover your eyes to escape.” Pharos smiled enigmatically and stepped back into shadow. “And so it begins.” _

Was that it? Was he going to have to die to end this? Would the others be forced to kill him, in order to end this?

Did he… mind that?

_ “Live.” _

Tears spilled down his cheeks, the way they hadn’t in years. He’d been numb for so long, the world too hard and cold for him to cling to emotions when the blankness was easier.

What… what was he supposed to do now? Did he tell them? How would they react?

He could imagine. The horror, the disbelief, the skepticism and mistrust and anger and-

It  _ hurt _ . To imagine the horror and possible betrayal on Yukari’s face. The disgust and mistrust on Junpei’s. The horrified concern and fear on Fuuka’s. The disbelief and anger and maybe the light of challenge on Akihiko’s. The concern and frustration and cold calculation on Mitsuru’s.

And… “What about Aigis?” he murmured to himself.

“I believe that depends on what question you are asking.”

Minato jerked, eyes snapping open to see Aigis a few feet away, standing and watching him.

He quickly wiped at his eyes.“What are you doing here?”

“I saw you were gone. “She tilted her head. “You are important. I must remain by your side.”

_ So you can kill me when the Shadow becomes a threat? _ He wanted to ask, but bit back the question. It wasn’t a fair one when she couldn’t even remember. So he changed tacts. “You said that before. What kind of important?”

She stepped closer, mulling over the question. “I am… not sure.”

“A bad kind?” He pushed himself up, leaning heavily on the rock.

“No.” She said, head cocked contemplatively. “I feel I should be cautious, but not wary. You are… important. But I do not wish for you to come to harm.”

That didn’t make sense. “But…” he murmured.

“You know know why.” It wasn’t a question, but an inquisition. What did he remember, that she did not?

“I didn’t,” he said truthfully, turning to look at the ocean. The moonlight sparkled off the waves, the same as it had then. “Not until just now, after meeting you and trying to remember. Now…”

Now, he didn’t know what to think. How to feel.

“You do not wish me to know?”

“I’m scared.”

It was quiet for a moment at the admission, only the sound of the waves breaking the silence.

“You believe yourself in danger?”

Minato sighed, tipping his head back to look at the moon. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just… don’t know if I care. If this fear is that, or something else entirely.” Or even  _ his _ . Could Shadows feel fear? “It feels like everything has been thrown into question, and I don’t know what to think.”

Aigis stepped up next to him, looking out over the ocean. “I do not wish you harm.”

“I know.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, searching for stability. A moment of hesitation, and then- “The incident ten years ago. It created the Dark Hour, and unleashed the Shadows into this world during it.”

She turned to him. “According to my information, that is correct.”

“And you were damaged fighting one.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t remember anything about it?”

“I remember…” she trailed off, looking away distantly. “Sadness, I believe. The feeling of failure. The urge to apologize. However the events… are out of my reach.”

He was scared. Scared of the reactions, scared to break a promise never made. He’d spent so long not caring, and now he was torn. A large part of him still… didn’t really care. About living, or dying. But the idea that her final wish was for nothing… hurt. Especially now that he actually remembered it.

But… this was too important. They needed to know even… even if it turned them against him.

Even if it meant he would eventually have to die for it.

Minato murmured, “There was a full moon. One minute everything was normal, and then something exploded and the car flipped and I was thrown out. There was fire everywhere on the bridge, and then two figures fighting in the smoke. There was a flash of blue, and then one came out holding a ball of blue fire.”

She was looking at him, expression marred by a small frown, and he could see her thinking. Her eyes searched his face, as though seeking familiarity.

On a whim, he stepped back and sat down, falling into a cross-legged position to look up at her. The moon was high above them, casting her shadow over him in a mimicry of that night. She stared down at him.

Slowly, she knelt in front of him, reaching her right hand towards his face. She paused, and instead lowered it to rest flat on his chest- directly over the scar. The metal of her body was freezing against his skin, a poignant difference from the inferno of that night. She met his eyes, her own highlighted by the moonlight, and he saw the moment it clicked.

Aigis breathed out, pressing her hand down. “I see,” she said quietly.

Minato could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, blood rushing in his ears with nerves and trepidation. “You remember?”

“When the safeties failed and the Shadows were unleashed, the Anti-Shadow combat units were engaged and ordered after them. I fought against the penultimate of the problem- the Shadow representing the Arcana of Death instrumental to the experiment. When it fled after receiving too much damage, I followed. I found myself fighting it on that bridge, and I managed to subdue it, however… by that point I was too damaged myself to fully destroy it. Thus, I turned to the only living being remaining on the bridge in an attempt to seal the Shadow away where it could not cause harm.”

He swallowed, trying to breathe around the knot in his throat. “The shockwaves must have killed everyone else. I took my seatbelt off to try to look at the ocean, so when the car flipped I was thrown out. I… guess that’s why I survived when my parents…” His father had been dead as soon as the shockwave hit, and his mother wasn’t far behind with her own injuries; that’s why his mother had been crying. She had known. She must have thought he was the same, until she had seen him. The other cars on the bridge must have met the same fate.

Minato had been the only survivor.

Aigis’ hand twitched, and reached up to cup his face. Despite her muted emotional responses, her brows curved with sorrow. “I am sorry. Asking you to bear such a burden was unfair; even if it was the most logical choice.”

“It was the only choice. I’m aware enough to know that.” He reached up to touch her hand. “I don’t hold it against you, I just…”

As she blinked, there was a shift, and the world changed. The moon was larger, everything tinted green.

“What is it?”

Minato was quiet for a moment, then pulled away to stand up. He took a few steps away towards the ocean, then pulled out his Evoker as he turned to face her. He knew his hand was trembling as he raised it, but his voice and will were steady as he pulled the trigger and reached into himself.

_ “Thanatos.” _

He felt the tremble in his soul, the shudder of trepidation and reluctance-

-but Thanatos answered his call anyway. It was accompanied by the usual ache and burn in his chest- as though he had to tear back through the seal each time he answered Minato’s call. Maybe that was why he refused so often. Maybe it hurt.

(Or, he considered, thinking back to the times that Thanatos had wrapped around him to strike back Shadows, perhaps it was because it hurt  _ him _ , and Thanatos didn’t want to. It was a strange thought to consider, but-

-but it matched up with everything Pharos said too well to dismiss it entirely.)

Aigis stared and slowly rose as Thanatos rose up behind him. It was silent for a moment, all parties analyzing the situation, before Aigis looked at him.

“It listens to you?”

“Thanatos. He’s never lashed out at anything but Shadows. I knew he was different, but I didn’t realize he wasn’t actually a Persona until now. He answers my call when he really needs to.” At her questioning look, he explained Orpheus’ and Thanatos’ “awakening”, and rare occasions Minato needed to summon him in fights.

She frowned.

“I would not have considered such a thing possible. Perhaps…” she looked between them, and then stepped up to reach out. He felt the wariness from Thanatos, but neither stopped her as she touched Minato’s scar again. “I wonder… has being sealed within you, within a human, created something akin to empathy?”

“I don’t know. But… he’s here.”

“Yes.”

Minato breathed out and called Thanatos back. The Persona- the  _ Shadow- _ hesitated for a brief instant before acquiescing. He faded, returning to Minato’s soul, and left the two of them standing there.

It took a moment for Minato to break the silence with a quiet question. “In order to eliminate the Dark Hour, we were told to destroy the twelve Arcana Shadows. If that’s true, then it isn’t twelve. It’s thirteen.” He looked up to meet her eyes. “Death is the thirteenth Arcana, and is sealed within me. In order to destroy it and get rid of the Dark Hour… am I going to have to die?”

Her fingers twitched against his chest. Her mouth pulled down, and her brows twisted. Her answer was blunt and honest. “I do not know.” The answer stung, for all it didn’t surprise him, but she continued. “However, I do not believe that there is any certainty in saying that you will. It is a question we will have some time to answer, and I will do my utmost to find another solution.”

_ That _ took him by surprise. “You will?”

“Of course. It was my failure that necessitated the seal to begin with; I intend to rectify that. It was an unfair burden, and requesting you to die for it even more so.” Her hand had warmed against his skin, and her eyes were clear and honest. “The retrieval of my memories has not changed my answer: I wish you no harm. You are important; thus, I must remain by your side.”

“Oh,” he said softly, and for the first time all day, he felt no wariness towards her. His hand settled on her wrist, and they stood like that for a few moments while he processed everything.

With another breath, Minato nodded. “We should tell the others.” They deserved to know. Needed to know, considering their ultimate goal. Even if…

Aigis inclined her head. “In order to maintain cohesion within a team with a goal, it is best to ensure everyone has access to proper information. We are more likely to find the answer we seek if we are not the only ones searching.”

“Right…”

“You are concerned.”

“It’s hard not to be. They… won’t be happy.”

“Perhaps. But that does not change the situation. Emotions may encourage growth and inspire action, but they may also hinder progress and need to be set aside at times for the sake of the end result.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yes. However it is not impossible, and I believe it is not as likely as you may think for the others to renounce you for this.”

No, probably not. He was used to thinking in the worst case scenario, but their reactions were unlikely to be as extreme as he was thinking. Still not good, but… not the intense hostility he’d immediately jumped to.

It still… made him nervous. But it was necessary, so he nodded and turned back towards the manor. “You can help explain it, right?”

Aigis nodded, at both the vocal question and unspoken one. “Yes. I will remain by your side, no matter the outcome.”

Considering he’d spent all day wary of her, the words made him surprisingly warm. There was a comfort in having someone solidly on your side, despite everything.

“Right,” he murmured. “Let’s go then.”

Hopefully, everything would turn out alright. One way or another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aigis is so freaking hard to write. Trying to find the balance between empathy and emotionlessness, especially since this is Aigis who went from amnesiac to regaining her memories, and we don’t actually know her emotional state pre-game, is hard. So I made her vaguely empathetic, and supplemented by logic and psychological understanding.


	18. Day 18 - Panic Attack/Paranoia/Phobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira was fine, the interrogation was in the past and while he wasn't fully over it, it didn't _bother_ him anymore.
> 
> At least... that's what he had thought. But when faced with the necessity of using an Evoker in order to call his Personas, and no other option but to do it... he realized that he might not be as over it as he'd initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just found out about the beta version of The Voice Someone Calls, and uh. I. Really like it.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwZx8QafcdU
> 
> It’s so creepy. I have new inspiration music for Tartarus stuff.
> 
> This is a post-P5-canon AU I’ve been playing with for a long time, but I keep changing my mind on how I want it to go in regards to Social Links/Confidants being involved. They aren’t really involved in this scene though, just mentioned, so take this snippet. It’s also an Everyone Lives AU, so Minato, Shinji, and Goro are all here. Why and how I haven’t decided, but… I’m having a lot of fun with it.
> 
> Warning Tags: PTSD, Flashbacks to torture, Mentions of November 20th Interrogation, Reactions to suicide imitation (Akira does not like the Evokers), Repeatedly pulling a trigger (literally and traumatically), Panic attacks, Mentions of a murder attempt, self-loathing, self-recrimination, lots of crying, Akira and Goro really aren’t okay

“Whoa… this place is kind of grandiose.” Ann turned in a circle as they all examined the projection of Tartarus’ entryway.

“Hmm… I never really thought of it that way, but I guess it is, huh?” Junpei grinned.

“It feels kind of nostalgic, but… I don’t know if it’s in a good way…” Yukari murmured, crossing her arms as she glanced around. “I can’t say I missed this place.”

Minato grimaced in agreement. “I forgot how oppressive this place was.”

Mitsuru sighed. “I know what you mean. Alright, navigators, could you please do an initial scan? There’s no telling if it’s anything like the original, and I’d like to have some idea of what we’re walking into.”

They nodded, but Rise and Futaba stilled as Fuuka called to her Persona.

“Huh?” Rise closed her eyes with a furrowed brow, touching her chest. “Why-?”

“What’s wrong?” Yosuke stepped forward, hovering uncertainly as they all watched the three.

Futaba scowled, reaching up to touch the sides of her head. “I can’t summon Prometheus. I can feel him, but-”

Rise nodded. “It’s like- Kanzeon can’t answer my call. I know she’s there, and she knows I’m calling, but she can’t actually answer it.”

“Strange…” Mitsuru brought her hand to her mouth, thinking.

As everyone began talking, debating over possibilities, Akira looked around the room. The aura was suppressive, weighing heavily in the air solemnly. He felt like he should have the answer. The reason that their Persona couldn’t come.

Something stirred in the back of his mind, the whisper of one of his many Persona, nudging at him.

He flicked a glance at Minato and found him touching his chest with a frown as he spoke with Yu. They both had puzzled looks as they murmured. Akira scanned the walls for clues as to what had caused Orpheus to stir. It was strange, considering he’d always been one of his more distant Persona and belonged to Minato, who obviously sensed something but could seem to pinpoint what. As his gaze fell upon the back area, where a stand of shelves sat innocuously, Orpheus settled back into silence and faded back into the mass of his other Persona. With a glance at everyone else still talking, Minato still seeming uncertain, Akira slipped around the group and made his way to the stand.

There, he found seventeen guns glimmering in the faint light.

_ Evokers _ .

Yeah, okay, that made sense.

He lifted one up, testing its weight in his hand. It was heavier than he’d expected, heavier than the models of the same size that he was used to. To be expected, he supposed, considering SEES had mentioned that they were technically real guns. They just used Plumes of Dusk rather than ammo.

The realization made him swallow, and he took a quiet, shuddering breath.

Guns didn’t bother him; he’d used them just fine all throughout Shido’s Palace, Mementos, and this new, strange place. But he hadn’t had one aimed at his head since-

Closing his eyes, Akira took another steadying breath.

That was the point of them, he knew. The sensation of shooting yourself to put your mind under enough stress to forcefully summon your Persona. That was how Mitsuru had explained it. But knowing that and coming to terms with it were two different things.

He’d also never expected to actually have to  _ use _ one.

With a sigh, Akira turned towards the others and spoke up. “It’s probably a difference in the distortion. The distortion here has different rules, so we have to play by them.”

It caught everyone’s attention, and they all turned to look at him- and the case.

“Ah, I see,” Makoto hummed, making her way over. “So because of how the distortion manifests, our Persona can’t answer our call by the usual means. We simply have to adapt to the environment, it seems.”

“An irritating inconvenience,” Yusuke mused as he and the others followed. “I suppose that also answers the question as to why our attire has shifted back to our casual wear.”

Ah right, that had been mentioned. “Most likely.” He stepped out of the way as everyone collected an Evoker, spinning his own in his grasp to get used to the weight. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes with it in battle- actually; “Oh, that probably means our guns won’t work either,” he murmured.  _ That _ was inconvenient.

“Aww man,” Ryuji frowned. “That’ll make it harder. Wait, what about our other weapons then? They’re all models too, yeah?”

Good point. Akira reached into his bag and withdrew his knives, examining them. Groans and muttered curses rose up from the other Thieves, and he sighed and slipped the models back into his bag. “We’re going to have to requip ourselves, then.”

“Man,” Ann sighed, running a hand through her bangs. “Well, this is off to a great start.”

“Indeed,” Haru folded her arms with a tilted head. “Replacing them with the real thing will be easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

“So we’re useless?” Ryuji slumped.

Goro shook his head. “I wouldn’t go that far. We still have our Persona, even if our usual weapons are relatively useless, and Makoto has ensured that everyone has at least basic training in hand-to-hand, yes?”

“Good point,” Makoto nodded. “So we aren’t helpless, but we  _ are _ still at a significant disadvantage.”

“So you’ll take more of a support role while we’re here- at least until you replace your melee weapons,” Yu summarized.

Akira nodded, while Makoto agreed with a sigh. “So it seems. I apologize.”

“Nah, you’re fine,” Junpei grinned. “We got this!”

Akihiko nodded. “Any help is appreciated. Last time around we did this with just our group, so the fact that you’re here at all is a big advantage.”

“Heals and buffs alone can change an entire battle,” Yosuke added encouragingly. “Even without extra attack power.”

“Well that’s a relief!” Ann laughed, expression a tad embarrassed. “We’ll do our best to support you guys!”

“We’ll be counting on you, as ever,” Yu said with a smile, then considered his Evoker. “Although this is going to take some getting used to.”

Discomfort curled in Akira’s stomach as he glanced down at his own again. He tightened his grip on it as he noticed his hand shaking, and glanced around at the others.

Most of the Thieves looked various shades of discomfited, except for Goro who looked as placid as his TV interviews, and Futaba who was glancing around at the others with an unhappy frown.

Goro wasn’t a surprise, they were all well aware of his tenuous view of his own life’s worth, and that he was covering it to avoid their concern was to be expected. Futaba… wasn’t really a surprise either. She was better,  _ much _ better, but that kind of trauma didn’t just disappear, and she’d spent years drowning in self-recrimination and suicidal grief. That they were both a bit too comfortable with the idea of it, and trying to hide that fact, didn’t surprise him, even if it did twist a knife in his chest.

Hell, he couldn’t even say that he was much different. If it had been anything but a gun, it wouldn’t have bothered him so much. The fact that it was having this much of an effect on him for such a stupid reason was  _ frustrating _ . Being shot was the least traumatizing part of that whole experience, and it hadn’t even been  _ him _ . The only reason he’d even seen it at all was because of Third Sight, which in hindsight was probably a stupid decision, but he’d hoped to get some information, but all he’d gotten were nightmares and-

He gave a quick shake of his head to get rid of the thoughts. He was getting distracted; it wasn’t important right now. He’d push past this the way he did everything else.

The Investigation Team looked uneasy too. Yu was as stoic as ever, just the slightest furrow to his brow to hint at concern, and Naoto was much the same, but the others were examining the Evokers with reluctant uncertainty.

He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse, but it didn’t really matter. Akira caught Makoto’s eye and tilted his head questioningly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then released it, opened her eyes, and nodded resolutely at him.

“We should go ahead and test it now,” she called firmly. “Get the first time out of the way, and it’ll probably just get easier from there.”

Kanji huffed out a breath from next to Naoto and Chie. “Yeah, makes sense, but… man.”

“No kidding. It’s weird, I’m used to guns actin’ real here.” Ryuji rolled his head. “But you guys’ve been using ‘em, so… it’s fine, yeah?” Akira saw him set his jaw and knew what he was about to do. He couldn’t stop himself from tensing with concern as Ryuji reached up with a smooth, determined motion, and pulled the trigger.

The same burst of blue Akira was used to from SEES swirled around Ryuji, and solidified into Seiten Taisei above him. His whole team slowly relaxed and released their breaths around him.

“So we’re really gonna have to do that every time, huh?” Ann asked weakly. “That’s going to get more stressful every time I watch you guys do it, I can already tell.”

“Shouldn’t it get less stressful?” Ryuji wondered as he called Seiten Taisei back.

“No, I doubt it,” she sighed. “Jeez…”

“Seriously. Even knowing it’s gonna be fine, watching you do that…  _ ugh _ .” Futaba shuddered, but shook her head. “Right, here goes!” She squeezed her eyes shut and reached up to pull the trigger. Another flash of blue, and Prometheus hovered over her for a moment before shifting into a mass of familiar screens around her. “ _ Oooh _ boy, that’s a rush. Alright! I’m gonna go ahead and start running scans.”

“Good idea,” Akira nodded to her, fighting to keep a steady facade. Watching his team do this was actually worse than contemplating it himself, and he didn’t want to show how much this was bothering him. They were moving past this, they all knew what happened and now they were trying to move on. He didn’t want to push them backwards in this, and Goro would absolutely start spiralling again if he realized how badly this was affecting Akira. “Let us know if you find anything interesting.”

“Interesting like treasure?”

“Interesting like treasure. And Treasure Shadows.”

“Will do, Leader!”

“Ooh, sounds good!” Rise beamed determinedly, lifting her Evoker. “I won’t lose!” She shifted into a focused stance as Kanzeon manifested behind her.

“Heheheheh, keep up if you can, Idol!”

Yu shook his head, amused, at the Navi’s competitive banter. “Best not to think about it too hard, I guess.”

“Y-Yeah,” Yosuke agreed nervously. “Otherwise you’ll just psych yourself out, heheheh…”

“R-Right…” Chie nodded, biting her lip.

“I suppose so. It’s a bit of a strange idea, but it doesn’t seem that bad.” Yukiko mused, then shrugged and lifted her Evoker. “Oh well.” A flash, and Amaterasu formed.

“J-Jeez, Yukiko!”

“Whoa… Yukiko-senpai’s as badass as ever…” Kanji muttered.

“No kidding…” Yosuke sighed, shaking his head and lifting his Evoker nervously. His hand was shaking, and he screwed his eyes shut as he pulled the trigger.

Akira watched the teams slowly summon their Persona, some more hesitantly than others, and the knot in his chest wound tighter and tighter the fewer people there were that hadn’t gone. He shifted to hide his white-knuckled grip on the Evoker, and tried to swallow down the building panic.

_ The hell is wrong with you?! _ He clenched his jaw in frustration.  _ Literally everyone else is doing it without issue. Nothing’s going wrong, nothing is happening, so what the hell are you so afraid of?! _ He didn’t know, and even knowing that, it wasn’t… helping. And the sensations of his Personas were distant; there, but so muffled that he couldn’t actually hear their voices. The lack of Arsene’s usual snark in his head, always so grounding, wasn’t helping either.  _ Just reach up and pull the damn trigger. _

“Aha!” Futaba’s explanation drew the room’s attention to her. “There’s like, three Treasure Shadows a couple floors up!”

“Whoa, so many!” Ryuji grinned. “Awesome!”

Akira nodded to her. “Nice job as always, Oracle.”

She giggled happily, and while everyone else was still focused on her- Akira took a deep breath, and allowed his eyes to fall closed and jerked the Evoker to his head to pull the trigger.

It was… about as bad as he’d expected. The shock rushed through him, so similar to the jolt he’d felt back then. He didn’t fully understand why- the feeling back then had been purely in his own head, the dissonance between the Metaverse and the real world negating any possibility of an effect from Akechi shooting his cognitive self, even if he  _ was _ in the exact same spot. He’d watched- but there was no possibility of any sort of effect. So why did it feel the same? Was cognition really that powerful, that it could have a resonating effect in the real world on the level of an Evoker?

It made him uneasy, bile rising in the back of his throat as his stomach twisted.

But Arsene was a steadying presence at his back, hovering so that he just barely brushed up against Akira, and for all that it didn’t help with the sensation, it did at least help him maintain his composure.

That was probably the best he could ask for.

Arsene’s uncharacteristic silence was unnerving, though, even their bond muted and the fire of resolute rage banked into near nonexistence. It was as though everything was being stifled, creeping apathy and resignation leeching the energy from him. It was worse even than the depths of Mementos, with their rows of cells and willing inmates.

He  _ hated _ it.

A large part of him wanted to keep Arsene summoned, for the security of his presence and the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to summon him again. But that would be too obvious, and a ridiculous waste of energy as well, so he reluctantly called Arsene back and holstered the Evoker where he usually kept his gun. It was a heavy weight compared to what he was used to, especially overtop his normal clothes rather than his Thief’s outfit.

“So are we going ahead and scouting out the first floor, or should we pull back and double check that we have everything?” Yukari asked, shifting her bow nervously.

Akira tilted his head, considering, and glanced at Yu and Minato.

“I believe an initial scout should be fine. Considering the manpower we have, and given the all-clear from our navigators, there shouldn’t be anything we can’t handle.” Mitsuru crossed her arms with a thoughtful expression. “On top of which, it will give those inexperienced with Evokers and Tartarus a chance to acclimate before we begin pushing forward aggressively.”

Minato nodded. “I agree. Yu?”

Yu inclined his head. “Practice would be good; we won’t be able to afford hesitation later.”

“Sounds good,” Akira kept his voice light, sliding his hands into his pockets to hide any residual tremors. It was  _ fine _ . “Team division?”

“Good question,” Yu murmured, glancing to SEES. “You have the most experience here. What do you suggest?”

“Last time we traveled in four-man squads to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves,” Mitsuru said. She crossed her arms thoughtfully. “However, we have three times the number of people now, so I feel it would be lucrative to expand teams a bit.”

“Three times the people, three times the team size?” Teddie suggested brightly.

Akihiko shook his head. “The hallways are too narrow, twelve people would just be stumbling over each other and causing confusion. I’d say eight, at the most.”

“Front row, back row,” Akira mused.

“Ooh, good call Joker!” Futaba agreed excitedly. “It’d keep the movement down, but keep the power level pretty high.”

“Front row, back row?” Yukiko asked, curious.

“It’s a common tactic in turn-based RPGs,” Goro explained. “Essentially, the front row is more aggressive, they deal and take more damage. The back row deals less damage, but they also take less damage. They also typically offer either long-range support, or are purely supportive. Healers are always put in the back row, as are people with buff/debuff focus.”

Naoto nodded. “By following that model, it minimizes the amount of attacking done and keeps the back row in the same area, so there’s less of an issue of friendly fire.”

“Sounds good,” Minato said, and scanned the room. “So, how do we want to divide the teams?”

“I had some ideas about that, actually,” Makoto stepped forward and pulled out her notebook.

Akira took a breath to steady himself, and moved forward with everyone else.

This was probably going to suck.

**. . . . .**

When they finally dragged themselves out of the Tartarus portal and back to where the confidants/social links/noncombatant-whatevers had set up a sort of headquarters, they were all exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Akira felt sick.

While the others had seemed to grow more comfortable at the action with every pulled trigger, he’d only found it increasingly nauseating. They were greeted back with warm concern, but none of them were obviously hurt so it remained fairly relaxed.

Akira managed to brush everyone off, and slipped away to breathe.

The area was as bizarre as it had been before they entered the first of the three portals, and he wandered around the scraggly, eerie trees for a bit, before dropping down a small cliff onto a ledge overlooking the murky red river. He settled against the cliff face, pushing his mask to his head and closing his eyes, and finally allowed himself to fall into the messy emotions swirling in his chest.

His shoulders began to shake with silent sobs as he leaned forward to press his face into his knees, curling his arms around his legs and struggling to breathe around the hitching of his chest, the tears burning his eyes. Every time, it felt like he was dying all over again- even though he’d never really died at all that time. But even though it’d never even happened, all he could feel was the shocking  _ jolt _ of the bullet entering his head-

Something warm and soft pressed against his torso, wiggling its way between it and his legs, and Akira shifted slightly to curl around Morgana, holding him close and burying his face in the attendant’s fur as he fell apart.

Morgana waited it out, purring quietly and nuzzling against him, slowly, slowly drawing him back into his body from  _ that room _ . He didn’t know how long it took before he slowly came back to himself, settling back into some semblance of coherency. Long enough for his aches to worsen, where he wasn’t simply numb.

He let out a shuddering breath, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. Morgana watched him, concerned and sad and achingly  _ understanding _ .

“Sorry,” Akira whispered.

“Don’t apologize,” Morgana reached up to butt his head affectionately against Akira’s. “It’s understandable. I kind of expected it, to be honest. I’ve been here the whole time, and I’ve seen the nightmares, after all.”

Morgana, more than anyone, knew exactly how badly the interrogation and all it had entailed had affected him. He’d tried to shield the others from the truth of the worst of it, but Morgana and Futaba had been watching the cameras and Morgana had been with him 24/7 afterwards for nearly a year now. He could only hide so much.

“Yeah, well… it still sucks.”

“I figured.” Morgana was a warm anchor in his arms, grounding him here and now. Then he folded his ears back and said quietly- “You should tell the others.”

Akira went rigid. “I can’t.”

“Akira-”

“I  _ can’t _ Mona. You  _ know _ how Makoto, Futaba, and Goro would react. Goro especially, but Futaba and Makoto already feel guilty about how the plan played out too. If I lay out how badly it affected me- I don’t want to do that to them, Morgana. I can’t hurt them like that.”

Morgana sent him a sad, pained look. “I know, and it hurts, but… you know they’re going to find out anyway, right? If you don’t tell them now, all you’re doing is delaying it.” He winced at Akira’s confused look. “There’s three portals, right? Three groups, three distortions, and we’ve established that you have to reawaken your Persona to fit the distortion. You haven’t forgotten what Yu’s group explained, have you?”

He hadn’t, but it hadn’t quite registered what exactly that meant.

He sure as hell did now, though.

“Oh god,” he whispered, pressing his face to Morgana’s fur again. “Shit.  _ Shit _ .” And it meant that he probably  _ would _ have to talk about it now, because if they found out after the fact from his  _ Shadow _ \- He didn’t want to think about their reactions there. Because he  _ knew _ Arsene, could guess how cruel he would be about forcing Akira to admit to his issues. “ _ Ugh _ .”

Morgana sighed, tail twitching as he allowed Akira to hide for a while. Then he nudged him. “So?”

Akira took a deep breath, blew it out in a sigh, and nodded. A moment of hesitation, then he tugged his gloves off to actually feel Morgana’s fur. It… helped. “Okay. I’ll tell the Thieves. Just them, though. I’m not going to bring this up with the IT or SEES.”

“You’re worried about being considered a liability,” Morgana guessed.

“Not… exactly.” Akira rocked his hand. “I’m sure a couple of them would consider it, but that’d actually be fine because it’s not entirely untrue. I’m more concerned about being treated like I’m made of glass. I can already guess, just based on personalities, that some of them would see the trauma and take it to mean that I need to be wrapped in a security blanket or something.”

“I feel like this is the point where I should say something about repeatedly pressing your own triggers in an attempt to overcome them.”

“You’re not my therapist.”

“You don’t  _ have _ a therapist.”

“What exactly am I supposed to tell them? ‘Oh yeah, my year started out with getting arrested on a false assault charge, and ended with summoning Satan to shoot a fake god in the face to save the world on Christmas Eve’.  _ That’ll _ go over well. Forget prison, I’ll get sent straight to an asylum.”

Morgana sighed. “Well, maybe the Kirijo Group can help with that.”

Well- okay, maybe. “True.” Akira conceded. “ And I am exaggerating, but it doesn’t change the fact that the chances of dangerous mistakes go up the more distracted people are, and if everyone’s constantly worrying about how I’m handling things mistakes will be made.”

“I understand. Just don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

“Of course.”

Morgana grumbled disbelievingly, but didn’t call him on it. They were distracted by the sound of multiple sets of footsteps, and Akira craned his head up in time to see Ryuji leaning over the edge.

“There you are! Oi, I found them!” He called over his shoulder, and the other Thieves appeared over the edge.

“What are you doing? We’ve been looking.” Makoto glanced around, then shrugged and leapt down.

“River-watching,” Akira deadpanned as the others followed her down. “It’s very engaging.”

Futaba snorted. “Clearly. See any Gyarados?”

“Wouldn’t Magikarps be infinitely more likely?”

“Meh, it’s the Metaverse. Weird stuff happens.”

“I’ve seen nothing but water and fur,” he informed her, pointedly scratching Morgana behind the ears.

“I hope Mona-chan wasn’t in the river,” Haru frowned in concern, though her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

“I wasn’t!”

“No swimming in the river of unknown liquid,” Makoto said firmly. “For  _ anyone _ .”

“No?” Yusuke tilted his head where he was framing the water. “I do rather wonder what’s at the bottom, though.”

“Eh, just get Haru to use her rocket launcher.” Ryuji grinned.

Futaba grinned maniacally. “Ooh, good idea! Blast the water away!”

“We’re not doing that either,” Makoto said firmly.

Goro coughed to hide a laugh, though his voice gave him away. “I doubt the people back at base would appreciate the heart attack.”

“Oh man, Boss would definitely lecture us for sure,” Ann grinned. “And so would Sae-san!”

Akira closed his eyes with a smile, allowing his team’s cheerful teasing to wash over him. It went farther to sooth his raw nerves than his silent contemplation had by stretches.

Futaba plopped down next to him. “So, what were you actually doing?”

Opening his mouth to answer with another quip, Akira was interrupted by a cough from Morgana. He blinked down at him to be met with a pointed look. “What,  _ now _ ?” He asked, ignoring how plaintive it sounded.

“Why  _ not _ now?” Morgana shot back, tail twitching.

“Mental preparation?”

He sent Akira a flat look. “You mean procrastination.”

“What’s going on?” Haru asked, and he glanced up to see the others glancing between him and Morgana curiously. He bit back a wince.

“Mona’s trying to hold a group therapy session,” he answered blithely.

The attendant rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but I suppose that is basically what it’ll come down to.”

The others looked mostly confused, but Goro had a dawning look on his face.

“Is this about the Evokers?”

The rest of the Thieves grimaced, and Akira sighed and waved them over. They settled into a circle, watching him and Morgana.

He nodded to Goro. “Mostly, yes. Out of curiosity, how are you guys handling it?” Yes, he was stalling, but he did also need to know if anyone else had concerns either.

There were lots of grimaces and shrugs.

“I don’t like it,” Ryuji grumbled. “I mean, it ain’t the worst thing ever, but damn does watching it suck.”

“Seriously,” Ann agreed with a sigh. “I keep freaking out for a second, because I’m used to our guns.”

“Same here,” Makoto winced, running a hand through her hair. “Breaking through a year’s worth of conditioning is proving more difficult than I expected.” She shuddered and rubbed her arms.

“Indeed. Despite the awareness of the situation, it still becomes positively unnerving to see it in action.” Yusuke had his hand tucked under his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

Haru nodded. “Quite. Doing the action yourself is rather unsettling, but seeing everyone else doing it is… worse.”

“Yeah, pretty much. It’s not bugging me too bad,” Futaba admitted, “but I still keep catching myself about to call for a  _ goddamn revival bead _ before I remember.”

There were snickers and groans of agreement around the circle at the sentiment. They’d all reached for a revival bead themselves once or twice before remembering.

Goro was quiet, staring out over the river off to the side.

“Goro?”

He closed his eyes with a sigh. “It… doesn’t really bother me. It’s unpleasant but… I suppose I’m rather desensitized. It doesn’t really seem to have the same effect on me as it does everyone else.”

Akira nodded. He wasn’t particularly surprised, he’d kind of expected it anyway, and Goro had been pretty obviously dealing with it better.

“It’s been bothering you though, hasn’t it?”

He tensed, startled at Goro’s forward observation. He always managed to forget how blunt he could be at times. “It… has, yes.” His lips quirked up wryly. “That obvious?”

Goro shook his head. “Not really. But you  _ have _ summoned your Persona less often today than usual, and you kept grimacing whenever anyone else did.”

So yes, he  _ had _ been that obvious. To him, anyway. Dammit. He let out a heavy breath. “It’s… not easy. Watching everyone doing it, or… doing it myself.” He wasn’t- he didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t  _ want _ to bring it up, but he  _ had _ to, or else Arsene  _ would _ . And Arsene would make it hurt ten times worse because he was a  _ bastard _ like that, and Akira was fully aware that he was harsher with himself than anyone else.

“Heh, so even you have your limits of nerves,” Ryuji nudged him with a grin, pressing against his left shoulder. He was solid and warm and it helped a little.

Akira’s responding smile was more of a grimace. “I’m just good at hiding it.”

“We’ve noticed,” Ann huffed, sending him a warm smile. “You can lean on us, you know.”

“I know. I’m… trying.”

“It’s not easy when you’re not used to it,” Makoto said sympathetically. “Still, we’re all getting better.”

“Yep yep, boosting our party stat to max!” Futaba agreed brightly.

They were bright and warm, and it should have made him feel better. But the knot in his chest, anxiety and guilt and dreadful anticipation, was only tightening. He had to tell them, but he had no idea how. Not without- without making things worse. Breaking things that were only just beginning to heal.

He ran his fingers through Morgana’s fur anxiously, trying to find the words that wouldn’t shatter Goro and hurt everyone else. He didn’t know if there were any. Not for this.

“Akira?” Makoto asked, voice dipping with concern.

He glanced up to find the others watching him with worry tugging at their faces. It was the perfect opportunity, but as he opened his mouth he found the words stuck in his throat. He closed his mouth and swallowed, running his fingers through Morgana’s fur again. He could feel himself trembling as his gaze dropped to the ground. He had to tell them, especially now that they knew something was wrong, but- he couldn’t find the words. How could he knowingly break them apart like that, knowing what it would do to them?

A warm shoulder pressed solidly against his own. “Akira?” Ryuji prompted.

He closed his eyes and blew a breath out. “It was- stupid. I should have known better. It’s on me.” That wouldn’t work, he knew. His team was full of people with guilt complexes, and Goro and Futaba were the worst of them. But he couldn’t just- drop it like that.

He hated this. He hated, hated,  _ hated _ it, and it was entirely his own fault. He swallowed. “And I wouldn’t be having such a problem with it if it weren’t a gun specifically, but it is and it’s- making it harder than it should be. And it’s stupid, because I don’t have any issues with using them, and it wasn’t even fucking  _ real _ and it shouldn’t be bothing me like this but ever goddamn time I pull the trigger-” He cut himself off, closing his eyes and trying to breathe. He was saying too much, that was the  _ worst _ way he could have put it- “ _ Dammit _ ,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair.

Ryuji was tense against him, but it was Goro who spoke.

“Akira,” he said quietly, and Akira’s head snapped over to him. He looked calm. That wasn’t a good thing. “Can your Third Sight see into the Metaverse from the real world?”

His fists clenched, trying to mitigate the trembling. “Yes.”

“ _ Akira _ ,” Futaba’s voice was stricken, and he flinched.

“I  _ know _ ,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have- I should have known better, and I  _ did _ but I wasn’t- I didn’t-” he broke off and swallowed hard, feeling the burn in the back of his throat that warned of what would happen if he didn’t calm down.

“Why did you?” Makoto asked quietly, her brows furrowed. She looked like she wanted to cry too, and guilt swirled in his chest.

“There was a chance he might say something useful. A name, or some other information we could use. Most of our plan at that point was hoping he would say something over the phone for us to overhear, and at the moment it seemed logical to check just in case.” He was probably holding onto Morgana too tightly, but the attendant didn’t complain, only sank his claws into Akira’s vest and leaned against him. It helped keep him grounded, because he could feel the weightless disconnect sinking into the back of his mind and that was the last thing he needed right now. “I knew it was a long shot at the time, but it seemed like a worthwhile effort at least, and I didn’t expect it to be a problem. And it was probably at least partially because I was drugged to hell and back and wasn’t thinking clearly but-” Tears were pricking at his eyes now, and he tried to swallow them back because  _ that wasn’t helping right now _ .

Futaba leaned against his left arm while Ryuji pressed to his right, but their warmth didn’t help as much as usual because he was looking across the circle at Goro. Who was totally relaxed, almost languid, and had the same passively interested look on his face that he got in particularly difficult TV interviews.

“Don’t,” Akira said quietly, looking at him. “ _ Don’t _ , Goro. This is on me.”

“Is it?”

_ No, no, no. _ That was a  _ bad _ tone of voice.

“ _ Yes _ ,” he said firmly. “We’ve had this conversation before, and nothing has changed. It was a mistake on my part, because I did it  _ knowing _ what I would see.”

His eyes flashed. “And yet I’m still the one who pulled the trigger.”

Akira gritted his teeth, something sharp and aching in his chest. “And we know  _ why _ . We’ve talked about this, we  _ know _ .”

“We talked before we knew  _ this _ !”

“I knew,” Akira said, trying hard not to snap back. Meeting Goro head to head when tensions were high never worked; it was why he and Ryuji tried to avoid fighting, why either he or Makoto literally left the room once their arguments hit a certain pitch. Because they would tear each other apart otherwise.

“You didn’t  _ say _ anything,” Goro snapped.

“Because it wasn’t relevant.” Akira shot back. “There was no reason to say anything because it wasn’t a problem, and I never expected it to  _ be _ a problem.”

“That you saw me  _ shoot you _ ?!”

Heat flared in Akira’s chest and he snapped, “Goro, I was handcuffed to a chair and beaten and drugged and literally tortured for information for several hours straight; and then I spent another two hours desperately trying to convince a prosecutor who  _ did not like me _ that I wasn’t bullshitting about an alternate dimension and government conspiracy in order to convince her to lie and save my life. Of everything that happened in that interrogation room you shooting me was the  _ least _ traumatizing thing to happen, and the one thing I haven’t had consistent nightmares about  _ since _ it happened. So no, I  _ didn’t _ expect it to be a problem because it’s never  _ been _ a problem!”

The pinpricks of Morgana’s claws reminded him to loosen his grip and breathe.

It was silent for a moment, all of them shaken and trying to process the uncharacteristic outburst, but at least Goro’s unaffected mask was gone. The sight of tears in his eyes hurt, but at least they were a sign that he wasn’t pushing his emotions back and sinking into internalized self-loathing.

Akira closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the cliff face, shaking and trying not to start crying again.

_ Dammit dammit  _ **_dammit_ ** _. _

“I’m glad you told us, at least,” Makoto murmured, trying to push the conversation through. Letting it stop usually ended up stagnating it and made it harder for everyone, especially the person trying to work through the current issue. It gave him a moment to breathe and helped the others process.

“Not that he had much of a choice.” Akira could feel Morgana’s tail flicking. “Considering what the next distortion is, we needed to deal with this sooner rather than later.”

“Next distortion?” Haru asked, and he could imagine her wiping at her eyes as she leaned against Goro to help ground him.

“Yeah. If there are three portals, and three groups, and this portal leads to the distortion SEES dealt with, then it makes sense that the second one will be the Investigation Team’s. And considering how Yu’s group explained their Shadows…”

It was silent as it clicked, and then-

Ryuji’s quiet but heartfelt “Oh,  _ shit,” _ made him snort and open his eyes.

“Ugh, I didn’t even think about that,” Ann grimaced. “So we’re all gonna have to face that?”

“Most likely.” Morgana’s ear flicked wryly. “Considering the necessity of the Evokers in Tartarus, it seems unlikely that it won’t be the same for the other two. On the flip side, at least you won’t have to reawaken them when we reach our distortion. Presumably, at least.”

“I think I’d rather reawaken Arsene our way, thanks,” Akira said dryly, ignoring his stinging throat.

“No kidding, that’s gonna  _ suck,” _ Ryuji groaned and leaned against him. “We sure there’s no way around it?”

“Well, nothing is certain until we get there, but…”

“Judging by the process we’ve encountered thus far, it is unlikely that we will be unable to avoid it.”

Morgana nodded to Yusuke with a sigh. “Pretty much. Which is why we wanted to address this  _ now _ , rather than later.”

“Understandable,” Yusuke murmured, frowning at him. “If Arsene’s demeanor is any indication of how your Shadow will react to your presence…”

He felt more than saw Ryuji’s shudder, and the rest of the Thieves winced. They were… not unfamiliar with Akira’s more ruthless side towards enemies.

Granted, the same could be said of all of them.

His gaze drifted to Goro, whose lips were pursed as he remained silent. He could see the conflict in his eyes. With a soft sigh, he handed Morgana off to Futaba and pushed himself up. Makoto was shifting over to make room before he even made it to his feet, and he settled between her and Goro and leaned against him.

Goro stiffened but didn’t try to push him away, which was better than it had been even months ago. Akira leaned fully against him, sharing his warmth and presence in an attempt to create some sort of stabilizer for them both.

He saw Futaba scoot over to flop against Ryuji, arms curled around Mona as Ryuji leaned against her too. Makoto’s leg brushed against his, while Ann debated between leaning against her or moving over to Ryuji. Haru was leaning solidly on the other side of Goro to keep him from drawing too far away, while Yusuke was keeping an eye on Futaba in case she needed someone else to comfort her.

They were less of a circle and more of an oblong oval, now, but as long as everyone was getting what they needed it was okay. The others had started up murmured conversations with each other to give the two of them breathing room, and Futaba and Makoto some comfort at the reminder of the plan’s consequences. Ann had decided to drape herself over Makoto in a manner very reminiscent of her code name, and Makoto allowed it with mingled exasperation and relief as she wrapped her arms around Ann’s waist. Yusuke had shifted over to Futaba and begun what appeared to be a fairly complex braid in her hair, and Akira could see the relaxation setting into her at the soothing motions and Ryuji and Morgana’s warmth.

Akira closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Goro’s shoulder and allowed the memory to replay in his head. The whole thing had been hazy, between the drugs and the barrier between the real world and the Metaverse, but he could still hear the mocking words and see the fake smile and shattered, empty eyes. See the slightest tremble of the gun pointed at his forehead, and the desperation behind Goro’s somewhat manic facade.

Even at the time Akira hadn’t believed Akechi’s act. And after everything, all the months that had passed and Akechi had become Goro and they’d finally started healing, Akira knew exactly how fake and desperate the whole thing had been.

He wasn’t lying- it really hadn’t ever been a problem before now. He’d never even had nightmares about that part of it, unpleasant as it had been. So that it was affecting him now was… frustrating and confusing and very, very inconvenient.

A slight tremble passed through Goro’s body, and he slumped against Akira and turned to press his face into his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, nearly silent.

It wasn’t the first time, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. “I know,” Akira said softly back. “I still don’t hold it against you.”

“You should.”

“Maybe. But that’s my choice, and I choose not to.”

“Idiot.”

“Don’t care. Strings aside, you’re a Thief.”  _ So you’re one of mine, of ours, and we won’t let you go so easily, _ went unspoken, but it had been said before. He knew.

(They’d all become a little bit codependent, a little bit possessive of each other- but that was okay. And he’d never forget the look on the face of the guy who’s made a pass at Ann, only to end up flipped over a railing with his arm twisted behind his back as Makoto warned him with a quiet smile that if she saw him try that again he’d gain a few extra bones- albeit smaller than they had been previously.)

Goro huffed out a small sound, somewhere between derisive and fond, but let it go. He may not believe he deserved it, but they’d made their stance clear on the matter. Deserving or not, he had a second chance, and they weren’t going to let him throw it away because he didn’t think he should.

They sat there a few minute, the murmurs of their team washing over and relaxing them as they gethered their composures, and then Akira sighed. They’d had their break, they should finish the conversation. Goro apparently agreed because he sat up and wiped his eyes, and Akira followed suit.

It got the others’ attention, and they focused on Akira.

He smiled wryly. “So we’re going to need a strategy for handling Tartarus, because while we knew it would be draining, this is a problem that, unfortunately, isn’t so easily overcome.”

“ _ Or _ ignored,” Makoto said pointedly, giving him a  _ look _ .

He winced. “I know, but I’m not going to just drop out entirely.” As he’d expected, the others didn’t look happy, but they also didn’t argue. They knew him well enough to understand. “I’ll just have to be more cognizant of my limits, and switch out more often.” Granted doing so without explaining to the other two teams might be a bit more difficult…

Makoto seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You don’t want to inform the others?”

He sighed, toying with his bangs. “It’s not that I don’t trust them, but I don’t want to complicate the situation. Not to mention they’ll be more distracted trying to keep an eye on me, and that makes it more likely that mistakes will be made.”

“I’m not sure it would complicate matters. They’re well aware of my part in the conspiracy-” Goro pointed out, tapping his fingers on his thigh, “-considering their role in dismantling the conspiracy and clearing you.”

Akira sighed and shook his head. “That’s different, though, because they were acting separately for that. They didn’t directly corroborate with you guys on that; we never even  _ technically _ introduced ourselves until we all ended up here. It’s different than actually working together.”

“I suppose I can’t really argue with that… I’m just concerned about potentials, I suppose.”

“I know, I won’t deny that it’s a risk, but…”

“You got a point about them worrying, though,” Ryuji interjected, rubbing his leg. “People keep checking in on me, it’s weird. Not  _ bad _ , but like…”

“Akihiko and Shinji are mega momma hens,” Futaba snorted. “Kanji kinda is too, it’s hilarious. Not to mention Yu, he and Minato would probably start hovering around you.”

“Yeah, and Yukari keeps checking on me too,” Ann smiled. “It’s nice but… yeah, if they realize that you’re literally pulling your own trigger, they’ll definitely get distracted.”

It was silent for a moment as they all stared at her.

It was broken by Akira. “Ann.”

She smile beautifically. “Yes, Joker?”

_ “You dare.” _

“You aren’t the only one who can make jokes.” She broke into giggles. “Sorry, sorry, I saw the opportunity and I took it. Kind of surprised you haven’t.”

“I’ve been trying to find a way to work it into the conversation,” he admitted.

“Yeah, you and everyone else,” Futaba scoffed. “Damn, I had a good one too.”

“Well I wasn’t going to point it out…” Makoto murmured.

Akira shrugged. “Being comfortable enough to engage with jokes about your trauma is a sign of healing?”

She sent him a flat look. “Or a bad coping mechanism via deflection of the seriousness of the topic.”

“One does not exclude the other.”

Goro snorted and nudged him. Akira stuck his tongue out at him in retort at the silent accusation.

“Ann’s success doesn’t mean we can’t use ours,” he declared, then grinned. “Let’s see how many we can sneak into conversations before the others start catching on.”

Makoto sighed. “I feel like I shouldn’t be encouraging this…”

“It’ll be fine, Makoto.”

“I know what you’re doing.” The concern in her eyes made him shrug wryly.

“Then you know why I’m doing it.”

“Akira.” They all turned as Haru gave him a serious look. “You  _ will _ say if it becomes too much, right? I understand your position- both personally and as a leader- but you won’t push yourself too far?”

The anxious knot in his chest softened and he smiled at her. “Yes, I will. Promise. I know my limits, and I’ll say something if I need a break.”

“Or we will intervene ourselves.” Yusuke broke in, leveling him firm look. “If you begin to push yourself too far you will trust us to step in, yes?”

Ah. “If it comes to that,” Akira conceded, “then yes. As long as it’s not unwarranted.”

It was a testament to their understanding of each other that allowed them all to accept that compromise despite its ambiguity, and the reminder went farther to dispelling the lingering unease and panic than his earlier crying session could ever have.

“Oh, we brought food!” Ryuji sat up eagerly. “Haru was talking about a picnic, and we thought it’d be fun. That good, or is the mood off?”

God he loved his Thieves. “Sounds good, food would probably help anyway. We can even heat it up; Panther?”

Ann grinned. “Sure, just get me some wood to keep it going.”

“Oh, I can do that! Ryu-kun, would you please help?”

“‘Course!”

“Ah, then I suppose we should set out the food in preparation for the meal.”

“Good idea. Set it by the edge of the cliff, though, so it isn’t in the way.”

Akira watched them all scramble to claim jobs, laughing and calling over each other as the shadows faded further from his mind.

“This won’t be easy,” Goro murmured, reaching out to loop his hand around Akira’s wrist, thumb skimming the scars.

“No,” Akira agreed easily, leaning into him. “It’s going to be hard, and it’s going to hurt. But that’s nothing new. We’ve been doing this for nearly a year now, and at least I’m not mostly alone in to middle of nowhere doing video calls for it. We’re all together, and we can lean on each other.” He tugged his wrist free to intertwine their fingers. “We’re here, we survived against the odds.” Akira met his eyes. “No matter what else happened, what else will happen, it can’t erase that. We’re  _ here _ .” He squeezed his hand pointedly. “Anything else that comes can be dealt with, no matter how difficult.”

Goro just looked at him for a moment, then sighed with a small smile. “Sentimental sap. Still, you’re right.” They looked over at the others bickering and laughing over where the food should go. “As long as we’re together like this… I suppose it will take more than mere bad memories to take us down.”

Akira smiled.

“Now you’re getting it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with this, and it would be really interesting to see how Tartarus would go with all three groups... I'll write it eventually, and it'll be fun, but poor Akira.


	19. Day 19 - Grief/Survivor’s Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So, this is how your justice ends.”_
> 
> _“You have failed your rehabilitation. Thus, ruin comes to all.”_
> 
> _"The way forwards is backwards."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic I’ve been working on for a while. In which the Bad End of P5 ends with a NG+ of P3, starring all three protags trying to save the world from three separate gods over the course of six years.
> 
> Also, double update right before spring classes start!
> 
> Warning Tags: Technically major character death as the PT gets dusted (then time travel happens), Characters sacrificing themselves, Panic attack, Shock, Grief, Guilt, Self-blame

_ “So, this is how your justice ends.” _

“You have failed your rehabilitation. Thus, ruin comes to all.”

He’d failed-?

He’d failed.

Failed failed failed- why were they here? His Thieves, and Akechi, what-?

A game. A game for the sake of humanity, with he and Akechi as the players. Presided over by the God of Control- Yaldabaoth? Why, this didn’t make sense, how-?

“You have failed the game. Thus, you are sentenced to execution.”

Execution? He- the others- Akechi-

… no.  _ No _ .  **_No_ ** **.**

He forced himself up, the prison garb giving way to flames and his thief outfit, and the others were right behind him. They would not go down so easily.

The girls- the butterfly and the girl- and she reached out to them but Yaldabaoth did something-

The world broke, and they were on a strange platform and a door surrounded by stars, and Yaldabaoth was no longer in even vaguely human form and they  _ fought _ -

Fought back with everything they had-

And then the god did something, knocked them back, and- and-

and-

Joker- Akira- watched in horror as his teammates fell to the ground with screams of pain. He reached towards them as they were slowly engulfed in black smoke- and they faded away-

-one-

-by-

-one-

He and Akechi and Morgana- the only ones left- they stumbled to their feet and threw themselves back into the fight with increasing desperation. But Mona couldn’t cover the hole Oracle and Queen left, and they were too distressed by the loss of the others to keep up with the fight. Even with Akechi pulling out all stops and calling Loki-

It did nothing, the false god merely laughed-

“Who do you believe gave you such power?”

Loki turned on them and they fought and Morgana took a hit for Akira and  _ fell _ -

-and Akechi  _ screamed _ as he tore the helmet away- burned his black outfit back to white- Robin Hood struck Loki down and he faded into that same black smoke-

Yaldabaoth laughed again and aimed his gun-

-Akira froze, staring down the barrel again-

-Akechi  _ snarled _ and shoved him away-

_ “ _ **_Finish this_ ** _.” _

-he was gone they were gone he’d failedfailedfailed-

“It isn’t over!” It was warm, the healing spell that wrapped around him and filling him with energy. A boy with blue hair was there, offering a hand. “Get up, this isn’t over.”

The slightest spark of hope in his chest, if they could fix this-

They stood side by side and Akira reached for his mask, but the false god hummed thoughtfully.

“Oh? A seal to preserve the world, is it?” The boy stiffened, eyes wide- “The Goddess of Death… a useful ally, for the forsaken humanity.”

Akira didn’t know who the boy was or what had happened but there was no way to misunderstand that-

“ **_Messiah_ ** **!** ”

“ **_Arsene_ ** **!** ”

Yaldabaoth swayed in the air- more from Messiah’s wrath than Arsene’s- but brushed them off. “Foolish denizens of man, your struggle is for naught.” The gun was raised- up up up above them-

“No!” The boy raised a hand, but the gun was fired and the statue  _ shattered _ -

The doors swung open and mist spilled out, and suddenly they were trapped between Yaldabaoth and a new being, towering above them.

“No,” the boy breathed, panic flickering across his face. “No, no, no-!”

“Nyx,” Yaldabaoth rumbled, “executioner of man. Humanity calls for the end of their will.”

Akira was frozen, horror scattering through his body at the realization. This was- they were- they would destroy the world if given the chance. Was this- Was this his fault? His failure had doomed humanity?

“This can’t happen.” The boy trembled, eyes almost glowing. “This can’t- I won’t let it.”

“How-” Akira’s voice broke, but he forced it through. “How do we beat them?” Two of them- he’d watched his whole team die against just  _ one _ -

“I don’t- I don’t know. But we have to, we need- we don’t have a team but- somehow- we need-” His voice faltered and he squeezed his eyes closed. “ **_Help_ ** -” he choked.

“You have no means of escape, humans.” Yaldabaoth rumbled. “You shall meet your end.” He raised an arm-

The air changed, and a flash of light tore through the air as lightning struck the false god and sent him staggering. When the light cleared, there was a silver haired man in front of them. He glanced between the beings and turned to look at them.

“I heard a call- was that you?”

The boy let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect to call you, but I guess I should have. Thank you for answering, Narukami.”

“You’re… Arisato.” He looked around. “So this is-”

“Hmph, so... this is the power of those who resist ruin... My control shall not bow down to ruin. My control is the ultimate truth of this world.”

Narukami tensed and turned back. “I see… so it’s another one like Izanami.”

Akira didn’t know what he meant, didn’t understand what was going on, nothing made sense and everyone was  _ gone _ -

**-“** **_Finish this_ ** **!”-**

“We have to stop them. Whatever- Whatever else happens, they can’t-”

“And what do you expect to do, Trickster?” Yaldabaoth towered above them, voice dripping with derision. “You have failed your rehabilitation and lost the game. Humanity is forfeit.”

“We never agreed to your game!” Akira spat back desperately. “You may have chosen us as pieces but we aren’t bound by  _ your _ imagined rules!”

“And yet the game is lost and your compatriots are erased. You have no chance of winning, foolish child of man.” He spread his arms. “You had your chance, and failed. Now the punishment for such falls to me.”

No. No no  _ no no no _ -

A single mistake. He’d forgotten the plan, hadn’t given her the phone, and now- they were gone, everyone was  _ dead _ and it was  _ his fault- _

“No one asked for you,” Narukami cut in, eyes hard. “Your self-given role has no justification behind it.”

“The abyss of the unconscious yearns for ultimate ruin. Humanity itself calls forth my existence.”

“Others have said the same, and been struck down.” He and Arisato raised their swords, and Akira swallowed and spun his dagger into his grip.

Yaldabaoth reared up and raised his weapons. “Fools opposing a god, rebels who dare defy my rule... You shall  _ perish _ \- ghhck-”

All three of them flinched in surprise as a sword pierced through his chest.

Nyx hovered behind him, face blank even as she twisted the sword.

“You- Why? Are we not manifestations of the same desire?”

Nyx was silent, but another voice echoed around them. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean that desire is all-encompassing!” A vague form shimmered in the air in front of them, of a boy in a long yellow scarf. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that humans are too complex to push one idea or desire onto them. Their end isn’t our choice to make!”

“Ryoji…” Arisato stepped forward, eyes wide.

The boy turned to them with a sad smile, eyes filled with grief. “Sorry, Minato. I know you wanted to avoid this, but… assimilating and taking her over for a short period of time is all I can do now. I’ll buy you some time, so, before I disappear-”

Arisato’s breath hitched and he reached towards the boy, but Akira watched his expression set, then he vanished in a flash of blue. Nyx glowed, and yanked her sword back to deliver another blow.

It clashed with Yaldabaoth’s sword, and it felt like the air itself was being torn apart as they were driven to their knees.

He couldn’t breathe. It was like his chest was compressing, the air wouldn’t come, and Akira watched with wide eyes as the two so-called gods went back and forth. The space where they clashed seemed to stretch apart- like fabric being slashed with a blade- folding in and tangling on itself-

-Narukami grabbed onto him and tried to pull them up-

-Arisato was bent over his sword watching the fight with a stricken expression-

-it was loud and chaotic and Akira felt sick and he couldn’t breathe-

-there was a flicker of blue- a butterfly-

And then they were somewhere else.

A large elevator, with a clock above the door.

Two women and a girl stood in front of the desk, and the girl’s expression was desolate as she moved to kneel in front of him where he had collapsed onto the floor.

She didn’t say anything, merely reached out to touch his cheek, and the woman with long, curly hair spoke.

“The situation has spiraled beyond control, or any hope of salvation.”

The short haired one continued. “The Demiurge has all but won, and the world cannot be saved if things continue thus.”

“Such forces were never meant to meet, much less battle,” Lavenza said softly. “They are tearing apart the very fabric of reality, and I fear even the World and Universe cannot save us now.”

Akira was shaking, and he could feel the tears on his cheeks. “What do I do?” he whispered to her. “I- I failed. The others- They’re gone. I- I don’t- I’m sorry-”

Her own eyes welled. “No, it is I who am sorry, Trickster. I was created to guide you, but I- nay, the Velvet Room itself- has committed failure far beyond any of your own. My Master sealed and I torn apart, you were left at the mercy of the false god throughout your journey.”

“The battle of Nyx and the Demiurge cannot be contained now,” the short haired woman spoke blankly. “As things are, the world is soon to vanish.”

“What can we do to stop it, Margaret?” Narukami asked.

The long haired woman smiled. “Seeking the path forward, even now. The truth is this: There is nothing you can do to stop this here and now.”

Akira felt like he’d been shot all over again, but Arisato spoke. “Here and now? Does that imply that there’s somewhere and somewhen that we can? Elizabeth?”

“Ah, ever quick on the draw,” the short haired one sighed, pleased. “Yes. The path forward is open backwards, should you choose to take it.”

“Open backwards?” Arisato tilted his head.

Lavenza brushed Akira’s cheek, drawing his attention. “It will not be easy. There is much you will lose.”

“I’ve already lost everything,” Akira said quietly. “How do I fix this?”

Grief flashed across her face. “The way forwards is backwards. Here and now, the battle between Nyx and Yaldabaoth is unstoppable. Thus, you must stop this before it begins. The beginning not of your journey,” she turned her head to the side, “but of his.”

Akira followed her gaze to Arisato, whose eyes had widened.

“Time is an unstable force, and with the battle destabilizing it further, it will allow us to open a path to the day this began in earnest.” Margaret held her hand out. “Should you choose to take it.”

Akira touched Lavenza’s hand, then pushed himself to his feet on shaking legs. Narukami grasped his shoulder to steady him and nodded.

“This journey will not be easy,” Elizabeth warned.

“We aren’t expecting it to be.” Arisato’s face was set. “What do we do?”

The three attendants exchanged a look, then turned to the elevator door and raised their hands. It shimmered, then burst into a blinding white glow.

Akira and the others lowered the hands they’d used to shield their eyes and exchanged a glance. Uncertain, but silent agreement echoed between them and they stepped forward.

“Oh! Akira!”

He turned back at Lavenza’s call, and found her stepping forward and offering something in her hand. He reached out and accepted it, pulling back his hand to find a key on a string.

“That is your key to the Velvet Room.” She explained, clutching a book to her chest and looking to the side. “It should have been given to you the moment you entered, but the circumstances being what they were…”

Akira nodded and slipped the key over his neck. “I understand. Thank you, Lavenza.”

She sent him a sad smile. “Know that though this will be a difficult and painful journey, I will always be with you, my Trickster.”

He sent her a weak smile back, then turned to go. Arisato and Narukami were hovering by the door, waiting for him, and he stepped up beside them with a shaky breath.

Narukami touched his shoulder and Arisato brushed his arm, and the three of them exchanged a long look, then stepped through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minato knows all because Door/Jesus-kun has been watching the events of the world from the seal.
> 
> Yu has zero clue what’s going on beyond ‘another god being evil’ but there’s a sixteen year old having a breakdown who needs a hug and the Minato he’s heard so much about is panicking, plus Yaldy’s context clues, so he’s just- “welp. Guess we’re time travelling to save the world. … also this guy really needs a hug should I hug him?”
> 
> Akira desperately needs a hug and some reassurance, which is going to be the theme of the fic for a while because this is a pure Nightmare Fuel situation when you consider it.  
> (It’s good that Yu is the ‘you look sad, mine now’ person he is, because he’s going to be acting as Akira’s anchor point for a while because Akira is Not Okay and Yu and Minato are going to be giving him many hugs.)


	20. Day 20 - Lost/Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“No one can escape time. It delivers all to the same end- one way or another. You can’t plug your ears and cover your eyes to escape.” His smile widened as he stepped back into a shadow, hand reaching up to Minato. “And so it begins once again.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update!
> 
> Continuation of the last one, because it fits the themes too well not to (plus I already have it written, so why not?). In which all is not lost anymore- but in a way, they’ve lost everything.
> 
> Warning Tags: Mentions of torture, consequences of November 20th interrogation and losing against a god, Grief, Survivor’s guilt, Time travel means twisting the truth into a pretzel to fit your needs and Yu dislikes it, He’s also very worried about Akira, So is Minato

Akira curled up on the cold asphalt, trying to breathe around the mind-numbing pain throughout his whole body. Every injury he’d gained in the interrogation room and all of the ones he’d collected in the fight against Yaldabaoth had returned to reality with him, and were viciously making themselves known.

He shook, biting back sobs as tears spilled from his eyes.

It wasn’t just the pain- although that made it so much worse- but-  _ everything _ -

Ryuji, Ann, Morgana, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Akechi-

Every single one of them. They’d died. Right in front of him. All because he’d failed. He’d forgotten the plan, and in the process inadvertently doomed the entire world without even realizing it.

And he’d dragged the other two into it as well- he didn’t even know who they  _ were _ . If they had been in the Velvet Room, had attendants, then they must have been wildcards, but-

But he didn’t even know what that  _ meant _ anymore, after everything Yaldabaoth had dropped on him.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t do this. Everything hurt, and he’d lost everyone, they were gone,  _ gone _ , and he didn’t know what was going to happen now. The beginning of Arisato’s journey; but what did that mean beyond time travel? He didn’t know, nothing made sense it all hurt he just-

-he just-

-wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop.

_ Please, please just make it stop- _

**\/ ~ ᙙIᙖ ~ \/**

Yu winced as he pulled himself upright, bringing a hand to check his aching head. He wasn’t bleeding. And it felt like a normal headache, so it was probably a side effect of the time travel.

He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim light, and surveyed his surroundings. There was a mostly-full moon in the sky, and upright coffins scattered about. Eying the blood-like substance oozing inexplicably from somewhere across the ground, he quickly put the pieces together.

A whimper from the side made his head snap around, and he was moving as soon as he saw the shape curled into a ball off to the right. The fluffy black hair was distinctive, even in the shadows and without the cloak and gloves he’d been wearing.

He fell to his knees, reaching out to Akira, but hesitated as he saw the injuries peeking out from under the clothing. Akira was shaking, muffled whimpers and near-silent apologies spilling from his mouth, and Yu flinched as he made out the words.

They were the words on his lips when he woke crying from nightmares of that final battle, after watching his teammates die for him. Except in his nightmares he didn’t win, and never brought them back.

Those nightmares were Akira’s reality, from what he’d gathered from the false god attacking them.

Yu took a deep breath and carefully reached out to touch Akira’s head. “Akira,” he said softly. “ _ Akira _ ,” he tried again when there was no response, but the boy didn’t seem to hear him. With the injuries he could see he didn’t want to shake him, but he wasn’t responding at all, and that  _ really _ wasn’t good.

The pounding of shoes on pavement caught his attention, and he turned to see Minato round the corner with a nigh-panicked expression. It relaxed a bit when his gaze found them, but it immediately shifted to concern as he saw Akira.

“Not good,” he muttered as he knelt next to Yu.

“What happened to him?” Minato clearly knew more than he did. What that entailed was a mystery to him, though, because even Mitsuru and Aigis didn’t know how exactly the Seal worked. Seeing Minato in reality after all of the stories was- strange. He obviously knew what had been happening in the world after his creation of the Seal, but how much?

Minato grimaced. “You heard about the capture of the Phantom Thieves’ leader?”

“I did. Naoto and I were in Nagano, though, so I couldn’t get the details.”

“He was caught; the mental shutdowns were a conspiracy orchestrated by a government official and they sent an assassin to deal with him after they interrogated him for information.” His blue eyes were shadowed. “The interrogators were their people too.”

There wasn’t much subtly in that explanation, and Yu’s lips thinned. “And the false god?”

Another grimace, and Minato sent an uneasy glance around before sighing and shifting to pull Akira’s head into his lap to card his fingers through the dark strands. His voice was quiet as he gave the rundown of the story of the Phantom Thieves, and even though he was leaving a lot of blanks Yu could easily fill them in. He and Naoto had been kept suspiciously busy, and the Shadow Operatives had been fighting government roadblocks for the past two years. It seemed their suspicions hadn’t been unfounded.

By the end of the explanation, Yu could feel Izanagi humming beneath his skin with barely-contained fury. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I see.”

Minato sighed. “We’ll have to destroy Nyx rather than seal her. That’s the reason they sent us back here.”

Yu opened his eyes and nodded. “There’s three of us. We’ll manage.”

“Two, technically.” Minato’s mouth twisted. “He never awakened to the World. And like this…”

That made something sharp and hot twist in his chest and he reached out to brush the hair from Akira’s face. He pressed his palm to his forehead a moment later, alarmed. “Arisato, he’s burning up.”

“Minato,” he corrected automatically, and carefully shifted Akira to his back. His eyes slitted open, hazy and unable to focus on them, and they both tensed as the bright, glossy look in them. “Shit.”

“It’s more than emotional and physical distress; he needs medical attention.” Yu leaned forward to carefully slide an arm beneath Akira’s neck and knees.

“SEES has a full medical facility in the dorms,” Minato stood as he watched Akira curl vacantly into Yu’s warmth, as Yu carefully stood to avoid jostling him more.

“Cover story?”

“You and Akira will have to come clean about the time travel, you have past selves and will need legal identities. SEES can provide. The Dark Hour is a result of time experiments by the Kirijo Group; it’s believable. I’m in my past body so I ran into you by coincidence. Attacked and chased by Shadows, it’ll explain his injuries.”

“Accidental time travel?”

“Yeah. Ikutsuki is dangerous, so we can’t give him anything he doesn’t know. You and Akira are sixteen-”

“What?”

Minato raised a brow at him, and he examined himself for the first time. He was in his Yasogami High uniform for some reason, and now that Minato mentioned it he did feel slightly different. He’d stopped growing upwards at sixteen and simply filled out a bit, so he hadn’t really noticed.

“Huh. Okay.”

Minato sent him the same flat look Naoto always did when he took something ridiculous in stride, but like her didn’t call him on it. “You’re both sixteen, so you’ll have to rely on SEES’ help. We’ll make it work. Come on, this way.”

Yu carefully shifted his grip on the boy in his arms to minimize the discomfort of moving and followed. He could feel the burning temperature even through his clothes, and it worried him. What exactly had been done to Akira? How much was the interrogation, and how much was the fight against the false god? Had the time travel made it worse?

Akira’s head rolled against his shoulder with a small noise of pain, and Yu glanced down with concern. He stopped as he caught sight of his neck. “Minato-” he called haltingly.

The other boy paused and turned back. “What is it?”

“Did they drug him?”

Minato grimaced and moved back over to examine Akira’s neck. “Yes. He refused to talk even after they used physical force, so they brought drugs into the equation.” He brushed the bruising puncture wound with a gentle finger. “Not that it worked. He’s strong, and didn’t break even then. Though…”

He didn’t need to finish. Yu could guess how badly Akira was going to take this. He  _ still _ had nightmares that left him panicking; about Nanako and about his team. And it had been five years, and they had all come back.

Akira had been tortured, lost his entire team, watched the world almost get destroyed, and gotten thrown back in time all in the span of a couple of hours. He was probably going to be a mess, even after the worst of his injuries were tended.

“ _ Goddammit _ ,” Yu hissed through his teeth. The one and only time he could remember being this angry was after Nanako… after her temporary death. "He's sixteen, and they did this? Were the police- was it just the conspiracy, or were the police themselves involved?"

"I don't know," Minato sighed, falling back into step next to him. "I could see sort of what was going on, but my sight was limited to those connected to the distortions connected to the Sea of Souls, and people connected to them. Persona users, essentially. I've been watching you all, but I don't know much beyond what any of the groups know- knew, rather. As of now…"

"We know more than anyone else does."

"Yeah. Anything we don't know, we'll have to find out for ourselves. Even the Velvet Room may not be much help."

A small sigh of frustration fell from Yu's chest. He was still processing the situation, and didn't really want to consider the full implications of what  _ he _ had lost in all this just yet. He knew, he just-

He would deal with it later. After they got Akira medical attention, and the two of them received proper backstories and legal identities. Until then, he couldn't afford the inevitable breakdown.

( _ They _ were alive. They were fine- even if they wouldn't technically be  _ his _ team anymore.)

He followed Minato to a large building with double glass doors and up the stairs, uneasy at the lack of light emitting from it. Even knowing what he did about the Dark Hour hadn’t prepared him for the eerie lack of life. It hadn’t been as obvious in the TV World, because that world was so outlandish it would be stranger if there were normal signs of life.

But here, in a city in the real world, seeing and hearing the still emptiness where there should be life was unnerving.

Not to mention the coffins and inexplicable blood.

The inside of the building was dark and shadowed, but movement at the desk had him instinctively tensing and sliding into a defensive stance. The boy in prison garb smiled enigmatically at him, then turned his attention to Minato, who had stopped in front of him.

“Pharos,” Minato said, and Yu couldn’t quite read the emotions in his tone. He seemed uncertain- almost disappointed.

The boy- Pharos?- tilted his head somewhat apologetically. “Greetings. You’re late- though I suppose this qualifies as early.”

“You remember?”

“No. I know all that you do, but unfortunately I do not remember it for myself- or as  _ him _ , as it may be. Your soul was returned to your body at this point in time and the seal has not yet been broken. As such, judging by the events of before, I will remain in this form until the other twelve Arcana Shadows are defeated.” He tilted his head consideringly. “Although even then, I believe it unlikely that I will remember those events for myself.”

Minto glanced to the side for a moment, something like grief flashing through his eyes.

Inscrutable smile still in place, Pharos snapped his fingers. A portfolio appeared on the table, falling open to reveal a paper written “Contract”. It was already signed at the bottom. “A contract written and signed in order to proceed: the agreement to take full responsibility for your own actions.”

Akira shuddered against him, and Yu looked down sharply as he made a quiet, pained noise. His eyes were glazed and afraid as he breathed, “One must take full responsibility for their actions.”

He said it in the tone of someone repeating something painful they were told, and Yu could guess where he would have gotten it considering his state. He squeezed him carefully, keeping the pressure only to where his hands were.

Minato glanced back with a troubled look before returning his attention to Pharos. “I made that agreement before; I won’t rescind it now.”

“Very well then.” Pharos was suddenly directly in front of Minato, contract in hand. “No one can escape time. It delivers all to the same end- one way or another. You can’t plug your ears and cover your eyes to escape.” His smile widened as he stepped back into a shadow, hand reaching up to Minato. “And so it begins once again.”

He was gone, but the uneasy feeling in Yu’s chest remained. “That was…”

“Thanatos. Ryoji. Pharos. Death. Different names for the same… person, I guess.” Minato sighed, running a hand through his hair, murmuring, “Should have expected this.”

Before Yu could question him further, they were distracted by footsteps.

“Wh-Who’s there?” A girl stepped out of the shadows, trembling hand hovering over a gun. Yu was taken off guard for a moment, seeing Yukari so young and scared. She was always cautious, but this level of terror was something he hadn’t seen from her before.

“Can you help us? He’s hurt; we were attacked by Shadows in front of the station, and I don’t-” Yu broke off, allowing his voice to waver slightly. “I don’t know how to help him.” Yukari had a soft heart, and accepted hesitation as a sign of needing help.

He hated manipulating people, but in this situation he was willing to push aside the discomfort.

She startled, glancing between him, Minato, and the boy in his arms. “Shadows-? I mean you’re awake so I guess that makes sense, but…”

“How do you know about Shadows?”

Yukari whipped around, relaxing as Mitsuru stepped forward to stand next to her.

With a quiet buzz the lights came back on, and he saw the moment they both saw the extent of Akira’s injuries. Yukari’s hands flew up to her mouth in horrified shock, and Mitsuru stiffened.

“A Shadow did that?” Yukari whispered.

“I assume so. We- we were together, investigating a distortion in the Shinagawa district, but something happened, I think we might have fallen into the distortion, and when I woke up here I was alone.” He shifted uncomfortably, mind flicking through potential stories. Vague enough to leave adaptability, specific enough to not cause the wrong suspicions. “I had to escape from some Shadows, and when I found him he was- like this. I don’t- I’m not sure what else could cause this. I can’t summon my Persona, so I can’t heal him so- can you do something?”

Mitsuru pursed her lips, but slowly nodded. “I have… quite a few questions for you to answer, but we have a medical ward and doctors on-call. That should be sufficient, I hope.” She glanced at Minato. “What about you?”

He tilted his head questioningly, though his face remained neutral. “Me?”

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t involved with… whatever that was. I found them on my way out of the station, and they didn’t seem to know anything about this place.” He shrugged. “I figured they could ask whoever is in charge here, since no one else was around.”

They all stared at him, and he tilted his head. “What?”

Yu sighed and shook his head. “And the others say  _ I _ take everything weirdly in stride…”

Minato shrugged, though Yu could tell by his eyes that his disinterest was feigned. “Weird stuff happens.” His gaze lingered on Akira. “But… he definitely needs help sooner rather than later.”

“Indeed.” Mitsuru straightened, considering them for a moment, then sighed. “Follow me. Both of you. Normally I wouldn’t involve you right away,” she directed at Minato, “but if you’re aware and moving around during the Dark Hour then you need to know its dangers. Especially if you’ve run into Shadows. Takeba, could you please go get Akihiko? He needs to be informed of the situation as well.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Do you want us to meet you by the infirmary?”

“Yes, we can use the conference room next to it.”

“Alright.” She nodded to them and hurried towards the stairs.

Mitsuru turned away. “Follow me.”

Minato and Yu exchanged a glance, then followed. Yu glanced down at Akira and found his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. He inhaled slowly to keep calm, shifting his grip to keep it from slipping. “Hang on just a little longer,” he murmured, worry weighing heavy in his chest. Minato stepped closer, allowing their arms to brush as he glanced at Akira.

Yu looked up to find Mitsuru watching them from the corner of her eye with a furrowed brow, as though trying to unravel a mystery. She didn’t say anything though, just led them through the building.

They arrived at the infirmary to find several doctors and nurses hurrying around, obviously preparing for them. He recognized them as Kirijo staff; there were even a few familiar faces.

Even so, he found himself worrying as he handed over Akira, reluctant to stray far from his side.

"There's a conference room just over here," Mitsuru pulled him from his thoughts to guide them to a room a few meters down the hall. "We won't be far. However, I would like some answers as to who you are and what transpired."

Yu took a breath and followed with a nod, pushing his concerns for Akira to the side for the moment. “Alright.” There would be time to worry later.

He at least had time to breathe and collect his thoughts while they waited for Ikutsuki, Akihiko, and Yukari. Mentally sorting through all the information he had, he pieced together the basics of a cover story that would cover most of their bases. He would just have to be careful about how he phrased things, to avoid any conflicting information with Akira before he had a chance to fill him in on it.

The chance to avoid completely lying through his teeth would be nice too.

Akihiko and Ikutsuki both had an excited look in their eyes when they joined them, but Yukari looked nervous and wary. He really hoped Akihiko didn’t challenge him to a spar; he wasn’t really up to it right now. Especially with how explosive their spars tended to get.

“Well then, I suppose we should get started.” Ikutsuki clapped his hands. “My name is Shuji Ikutsuki, and I’m the overseer and sponsor of the Special Extracurricular Execution Squad; SEES for short. We’re a specialized anti-Shadow force.”

Yu gave a confused frown, mentally analyzing Ikutsuki’s profile. He played the part of hapless advisor well, he’d give him that.

Like Adachi, only a million times worse. Adachi was bitter and cynical and self-centered, but he’d only been looking for escape from what he considered an unfair situation. And for all that it was still unforgivable, he’d only killed two people. Ikutsuki, on the other hand, was a mad cultist who wanted to wipe out all of humanity.

It didn’t show, and if Yu hadn’t already known he would never have guessed. “I’ve… never heard of it. I knew there were other Persona users, I’ve met one or two in passing, but… I’ve never known of a fully functional organization. Where are we?”

Akihiko crossed his arms as he leaned on the couch, eying Yu with open interest. “Iwatodai; Gekkoukan High School’s student dorms.”

“Iwatodai?” Yu tilted his head. “That’s where the Apathy Syndrome cases were focused a few years ago, right? I suppose it makes sense that it was Persona related…”

“Wait, hold up,” Yukari interrupted, leaning forward. “A few years ago?!”

Yu nodded with uncertainty. “Well, yes. They cut off abruptly about six years ago, right? Around the beginning of 2010.”

“Wait, wait,  _ wait _ !” She blurted out. “Six years ago? 2010? It’s 2009 now!”

He stilled, staring at her with wide eyes. “It’s- what? No, it should be 2016.” He hesitated, glanced between the other people. “Right?”

Minato tilted his head and glanced at the MP3 player around his neck. “Says 2009 here.”

“Yes, it is most certainly 2009,” Mitsuru nodded, bringing a hand to her mouth. “You mentioned that you and your friend were investigating a distortion, and that you believe you fell into it?”

“Yes, although stumbling into it was an assumption based on the Shadows. I-” he cut off, reaching down to pull out his phone as though experiencing a realization. “Mine still says November 20th, 2016…” He shook his head. “A time distortion…? I’ve never heard of that.” Another strange thing… why did he still have this phone if he’d been aged back to his sixteen-year-old self? A gift from the attendants?

“My, my, how intriguing.” Ikutsuki mused. “However, it’s not so far-fetched. After all, the Dark Hour  _ is _ a time distortion. Normally, it simply freezes time for all but those with  _ potential _ , however perhaps this is an instance where it  _ connected _ to another time.”

“Well well, that’s interesting. To think there are other Persona users…” Akihiko chuckled with bright eyes, but thankfully Minato diverted him before he could try to talk Yu into a match.

“What are Shadows?”

Ikutsuki blinked, taken off guard, then his eyes lit up with realization and he nodded. “Ah, right, you wouldn’t know any of this. Shadows are, to put it simply, fragments of humanity’s unconscious.”

He gave a quick rundown of the Dark Hour and how it operated, nothing Yu hadn’t heard before when he joined the Shadow Ops, but it took on a new light with the realization that it would affect him now. If they wanted to destroy Nyx, they’d be working alongside SEES now.

He hoped Akira would be up to it.

After the explanations tapered off, Yu found himself shifting as they all felt silent. “So… what now?”

“What indeed,” Ikutsuki mused. “Well, for the moment you might as well make yourselves welcome. Your friend is in no shape to go anywhere, and while I’m sure we’ll all be more than happy to analyze the area to see if we can send you both home, we’ll have the best results doing so whilst the Dark Hour is occuring. Mitsuru and Akihiko,” he sent a glance at the two in question, “-can survey the area around the station for potential clues after school later today. For now, however, I believe you should rest. We can arrange for a room to be prepared.”

Mitsuru nodded, pulling out her phone. “That won’t be difficult. Considering the situation, I believe it’s best to assume you’ll be here for at least a few days. You’ll have the amenities of the dorm at your disposal.”

Yu swallowed and nodded. “Thank you. I- I wouldn’t have expected-” he cut himself off; shook his head. “I appreciate it.” He focused on Ikutsuki. “Is Akira…”

He seemed to understand, and smiled sympathetically. It sent a jolt of discomfort down Yu’s spine, because there was absolutely no indication that it wasn’t completely genuine. He was terrifyingly good at acting. “Your friend? Well, according to the doctors it seems that despite the severity of his wounds, he’s in no danger. Although he was certainly beat up, and it appears we’ll have to be cautious of Shadows using poison in the future.”

“Poison?!” Yukari yelped, and Akihiko’s brows arched.

“Yes; though they couldn’t determine its components, they  _ did _ find traces of it in his system.” He sent Yu an apologetic glance. “Unfortunately, they’re wary of how any medication would react with it, so he’ll likely be in a lot of pain until they can verify that it’s completely out of his system.”

Yu grimaced but nodded. “In that case, I should stay nearby. If he wakes up and doesn’t know what’s going on, he’ll probably panic.” Granted there was no guarantee that Yu’s presence would fix anything, they were still technically strangers, but…

Ikutsuki gave him a sympathetic nod. “I can speak with the doctors and see what’s most convenient. As for everyone else, I suggest at least attempting to get some sleep. School won’t wait for you, after all!” He chuckled to himself as he left the room, and Yu exchanged a glance with Minato.

Mitsuru caught it and sighed. “He’s a bit eccentric, but he’s a good advisor for SEES. If you need anything and can’t come to me, you can go to him.”

“Yeah, just expect half a dozen bad jokes in the process,” Akihiko snorted with a grin, standing up. He considered Yu for a moment, but his exhaustion must have been clear because Akihiko just gave him a sympathetic clap on the shoulder as he passed. “Don’t stress too much about your friend, we’ve got the best medical team in the business. He’ll pull through.”

Yu returned a nod of thanks, watching as he left.

“Right,” Mitsuru sighed. “Takeba, can you show Arisato to his room? After that, get some rest. I’ll handle things from here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yukari nodded, straightening with a glance at Minato. “Come on, I’ll show you the way. Uh…” She glanced uncertainly at Yu. “See you later, I guess.”

“Right,” Yu nodded with a sigh. He looked at Minato. “Thanks.”

Minato shrugged, but allowed their shoulders to brush as he passed. Yu could see the concern in his eyes that he didn’t speak aloud. But Minato had told him about the cameras, and he knew it wasn’t safe, so he tried to convey his thoughts through his gaze. Minato’s mouth quirked up slightly, and he said, “Later,” as he turned to follow Yukari. It was the closest they could get to what they actually wanted to say.

Yu found himself alone with Mitsuru, and fell silent. He wasn’t sure what to say with her. He didn’t want to risk giving anything away, but the silence was tense, uncomfortable.

She was the first to break it. “You mentioned other Persona users. Are there many others that you know?”

Good question. “Not… really,” he said carefully. “I only know one other group, and my own team, but that’s still less than twenty of us total. And-” he broke off, Akira’s shattered expression flickering through his mind for a moment.

“What is it?” Mitsuru appeared concerned at his sudden pause.

With a sigh, Yu ran a hand through his hair. Considering the situation, an altered truth was probably best. “The distortion I mentioned earlier… it’s not a new one. It’s been around for a few months, but my group could never figure out anything about it. Not until recently. But another group has been operating in it, which was what led to Akira and I working together.”

“So his group is the one you know,” she surmised.

Yu smiled bitterly, sidestepping the question with another truth. “Knew.”

She stilled, too quick to not comprehend the implications of that. “He’s…”

“The only survivor of his team. They ran into a Shadow that was too powerful, and he was the only one who made it out. He-” Yu swallowed. “It was… recent, so he’s still not over it. I’m still not sure of the full details of their situation, other than that it was complicated and dangerous in both the distortion and the real world.”

“So it’s less that the two of you are friends, and more that you’re compatriots with the same goal.”

“In a sense that isn’t  _ wrong _ , but I still consider him a friend even if I don’t know him well.” One wildcard to another, if nothing else, and if SEES was to believed they tended to be fairly similar anyway. “Regardless, I’ll do what I can to support him. My team has been a bit scattered lately with normal jobs and school, so it’s mostly been the two of us until I can get the rest of them together.” Lying had never been his natural inclination, so he hoped he was selling this realistically. “I’m not sure how he’ll react to this, honestly.”

She winced. “Yet another reason for you to stay close, I suppose.”

Yu nodded, and they both turned to the door as Ikutsuki returned. “The doctors have patched him up and he’s currently resting in the infirmary. They’d like to check you over as well, if you’re alright with that.”

He saw no reason to protest, and they followed Ikutsuki back down the hall. The checkup was nothing he hadn’t done before, he even recognized one of the doctors and several nurses, and it was a relatively painless affair.

Granted it was obviously more than a quick checkup for injuries; considering they gathered all the information they could need to create at least basic identities for them. He’d have to find some way to get SEES to the realization that they wouldn’t be going back, but for now…

Well, basic would do. His younger self wouldn’t be here until next year, and he’d make sure that they weren’t enrolled into school as themselves. (Oh no, he’d have to go back through high school-) They’d manage.

But it was over soon enough, and he was offered the bed next to Akira’s and left alone.

He took a moment to examine the other boy, lying pale and motionless on the bed with an IV attached. The bruises marred his skin, peeking out from under the medical scrubs, dark purple discolorations stark against how  _ pale _ he was. His breathing was shallow, pained, and Yu could see the slight twist in his brow and twitching eyelids that denoted unpleasant dreams. As he reached out to brush dark hair from his forehead, he noted the bandages around Akira’s wrists. He remembered the torn skin and the blood dripping down his arms, and what Minato had explained, and-

Yu closed his eyes, a stab of pain in his chest at the thought of the cruelty Akira had endured at the hands of the police. The only way handcuffs would do that to someone’s wrists was if they were yanking and jerking, trying to get away, and if he’d gotten caught on purpose then Akira wouldn’t have done that. Not willingly. And with all his other injuries…

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking down at the injured boy. He wasn’t-  _ hadn’t _ \- technically been police, he and Naoto had been specialized detectives and he was still finishing up university anyway, but… he’d worked with the police enough, had seen the pride Chie and Akihiko had taken enough, for the display of such unequivocal injustice to strike something personal in him. But the risk of recording equipment was too great to say anything more, so another misdirecting half-truth was the closest he could get. “Maybe if I’d been there, this wouldn’t have happened.” It was impossible for him to have been, but it still hurt to know that he’d missed something so critical.

With a sigh and another lingering glance, Yu settled into the other bed and prepared for sleep. Tomorrow would be an extremely busy and stressful day, and he’d have to start forming believable answers to all of the questions they would start throwing at him, and hope that Akira would be… well. Maybe it was unfair to hope for him to be functional, but awake and coherent, at least, would be a relief.

It took him nearly an hour to fall asleep, and when he did it was restless and full of nightmares and bad memories.

**\/ ~ ᙙIᙖ ~ \/**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Akira’s not going to be okay for a while. Yu is temporarily repressing things until it’s safe to process. He and Akira are going to be extremely codependent for a while, because all they really have is each other, and Minato is going to do his damnedest to help but he’s also going to be dealing with SEES and “not a time traveller” until they can at least deal with Ikutsuki.
> 
> Because it’ll be a while before I post this separately: Yu and Akira are too close in age to their past selves to stay themselves, so they need identities when they join Gekkoukan High, and Yu makes a crossdressing joke, and Akira jumps on it. So Ren Amamiya and Yuki Seta (Souji is a masculine name, and Yu is trying to avoid too much attention. His height makes it hard enough) are enrolled and start classes. (My Akira is genderfluid, so switching to female is actually kind fun for her- though there’s also a certain level of coping mechanism to create some distance from the trauma and be someone else that’s in play. Yu isn’t genderfluid, but he also doesn’t really care in general, so other than the occasional dissonance it doesn’t really bother him too much.)
> 
> They also join SEES with Dark Hour operations. Minato is still leader, and the other two are extremely cagey with information because of Ikutsuki, so they kind of follow everyone else’s lead. Ren’s relationship with the Evokers is complicated, because the survivor’s guilt clashes with desperately wanting to live for them, so… it’s both repulsive and addictive and Yu has to pull him/her out of his/her head a lot.
> 
> Like I said, there’s a lot of codependence for a while.
> 
> I don’t have everything planned out, but one thing I do have planned is the end of the year of P4. Shadow Operatives is getting set up, and Yu, Ren, and Minato graduate high school and are getting ready to start college, which means they’re moving to Tokyo soon. And Ren doesn’t know everything about what happened or why, but she knows enough and cannot sit idly by, so she ropes Naoto and Mitsuru into helping her find Akechi. And she’s just turned eighteen, is not married, and legally is definitely not in the position to take in a foster child, but why would that stop her? So she breaks a couple (dozen) laws, and manages to find and adopt Akechi (by which point she’s been in contact with him for a while with the promise that she would, but he doesn’t believe her until she does. He figures out the time travel thing within a couple of years, too, because despite her best efforts Ren falls into her head easily and being in Tokyo and with Akechi right there constantly doesn’t help). The Shadow Ops are beginning to form, Ren and Yu are sharing an apartment (with Akechi) in Tokyo, while Minato flits back and forth between Tokyo and Iwatodai to set everything up and prepare for Yaldabaoth.
> 
> And thus, the dominoes begin to fall.


	21. Day 21: Chronic Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets like this, every time it rains. Ryuji is used to it, but that doesn't make him hate it any less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji has undiagnosed ADHD and you cannot convince me otherwise. Literally everything he does has signs thrown up.
> 
> (Projection what projection, I’m not looking at a fictional character who is impulsive and jumps before looking and speaks without thinking and makes self-deprecating jokes to hide that he has zero self-esteem while latching onto the first person who’s nice to him and being willing to die for his actual friends- how did that happen what- at the drop of a hat multiple times, no, of course not. That’s ridiculous.)
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Chronic pain, Side effects of a permanent injury, Akira has terrible parents and Ann’s aren’t great, And they’re both very affection starved, All these kids are tbh, Ryuji’s mother on the other hand is wonderful

Every goddamn time the pressure changed or it started to rain, suddenly even walking made him want to cut his leg off. It  _ hurt _ , the ache bone-deep and impossible to escape. Some days even getting out of bed was a monumental struggle. A lot of days, he wondered why he bothered.

Before he met Akira, at least.

And then he did, and he was pulled into that castle, and then Morgana and Kamoshida and Suzui and Ann and the change of heart-

And suddenly he had a reason to get up beyond not making things harder on his mom. Suddenly he had friends. He had a purpose. And he had a Persona.

Ryuji, Skull, was a member of the Phantom Thieves, and suddenly the fact that he was broken and a pariah mattered a lot less. ‘Cause now he wasn’t the only one, and…

Well.  _ “Us outcasts have gotta stick together, y’know?” _

When he’d said it, the light had caught the new kid’s glasses he’d had a split second fear that he was about to be totally rebuffed. And then Akira had shifted his head, and he’d seen the uncertain, fragile hope behind the stoic mask, and even though Akira’s “yeah,” had been borderline noncommittal, Ryuji  _ knew _ .

And he’d been proven right, later, when he’d thoughtlessly slung an arm around Akira’s shoulders- touch had always been the center of his affection, even with the bad memories of contact, and it had been so long now since he’d had any positive contact. His mom tried, she tried so hard, but she was always working and he barely even got a hug in these day and she was the only one who would touch him- and he’d had a split second of panic that he’d overstepped his boundaries- he always did this, moved before he thought and suddenly he was the weird kid who didn’t understand personal space or social cues- until Akira had leaned into it and he’d relaxed. He did it more after that, having been given unspoken permission, and Akira always leaned into it and…

It was nice. It was really, really nice to have someone to hug, to just  _ touch _ in a positive way. He’d almost forgotten what it was like. And Akira rarely initiated contact, which normally would have made Ryuji worry that he was misreading, except that Akira would always stop just within his space, just close enough that it would be stranger  _ not _ to sling an arm over him, or lean against him, or reach up and prop an arm on his shoulder. And Akira always relaxed and leaned into it, as though he was as desperate for positive contact as Ryuji.

Considering his situation and the hints Ryuji had caught about his parents, he probably was.

It made it easier to hide when his leg acted up, at least. When he needed just a few seconds of a break, he could step up next to Akira- or Joker, more often- and set an elbow on his shoulder and lean against him, and Akira would lean back, and it would allow him to take the weight off his leg until they needed to move again without being obvious.

(Not that it mattered with Akira. Akira just knew things, and Ryuji knew that some of the breaks he called were because he noticed Ryuji starting to limp. He didn’t know how he felt about that. But it kept Morgana’s scathing comments about slowing them down to a minimum, so it was okay if just Akira knew.)

Sooner or later, though, it was bound to come out, and it did around the beginning of June when early summer rains set in. They’d just finished up with Madarame and were starting to get more requests in Mementos. And, as they found out, weather could affect Mementos pretty heavily.

Namely, it started seriously messing with Ryuji’s leg. He was fine at first, he’d always had a pretty high pain tolerance thanks to… stuff, so he could fight off the pain for a little while. But then he took a hit and went down, and suddenly it was getting a lot harder to ignore.

He was still managing for a while, even if he was leaning on things a lot more often and Joker was glancing at him every thirty seconds. But the battles were wearing him down, and then they shifted levels and the pressure changed, and he leaned against Joker for a few seconds, but when it was time to go and he shifted to start moving a  _ spike _ of white-hot agony shot through his leg-

-and suddenly he was on the ground, no clue how he got there, curled around his leg gasping for breath with tears in his eyes as he dug his fingers into the muscles and scar tissue in a desperate attempt to make it  _ stop _ -

He heard the others shouting his name, barely registered a dark shadow hovering over him as Joker knelt beside him and Panther rushed over.

“Joker, what happened?!”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, not his fault, my leg- I just stepped wrong, it’s fine, just gimme a sec-” he was babbling, barely able to register what he was actually saying as he tried to focus through the hazy panic.

A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he fell quiet and focused on breathing and the warm, firm grip on his shoulder as Joker called to retreat and asked Mona to transform.

“Can you sit up?” Joker asked quietly, sliding a hand under Ryuji’s other shoulder.

He grit his teeth and nodded. It was  _ fine _ , he could take it. He pushed himself up, biting back a flinch as his leg throbbed, and Joker slipped under his arm to hoist him up. Ryuji appreciated it more than he was willing to admit as he kept the pressure off his leg. Panther ducked under his other arm, and Ryuji slowly let out a breath. “Sorry,” he muttered to them.

Joker squeezed his waist, but it was Panther who spoke. “Don’t be stupid, it’s not your fault. It’s-” she cut herself off, but her dark scowl spoke louder than words.

“Don’t mean I wanna slow you guys down.”

“You aren’t.” Joker said, voice brooking no argument as they moved towards Mona and Fox. “We finished up all the requests already, and we’ve got plenty of money for now. There’s no reason not to head back other than stockpiling, which we can do anytime.”

It was hard to argue against that, but it didn’t make the shame and disgust settle in his stomach any less heavily.

Ryuji massaged his leg as they drove back upwards, digging his fingers into the muscle as though he could reach through his skin and tear the pain out. He didn’t realize how harsh he was being until pink gloves grabbed his hands and pulled them back. He blinked, startled, and looked up to meet Panther’s concerned gaze.

“You’ll just hurt yourself worse like that.”

He sighed, slumping back against the seat. “Sorry. It’s just- frustrating. Hurts like hell, too.”

“Yeah…” she sighed. “I know, Shiho keeps doing the same thing.”

That made a stab of guilt shoot through his chest- though guilt for  _ what _ he couldn’t begin to guess. A bunch of different stuff, probably.

The look she sent him felt too much like the one Akira did, and he looked away self-consciously. Was he that easy to read?

Probably.

“Here.” She shifted in the seat to face him and placed her hands on his leg. “Tell me if it hurts more, okay?”

He opened his mouth to protest that she didn’t have to, but then she was digging her thumbs into the ache- making it flare, then fade, and he couldn’t find it in himself to protest anymore as he leaned back. It felt nice.

It took a few moment to realize how nice it felt. Like a heating pad after taking some pain medicine, taking the edge off the aches. Which didn’t make any sense, unless-

Ryuji picked his head up off the seat. “Are you using magic?” he asked incredulously.

She didn’t look up. “Mhmm,” she shifted her grip with a furrowed brow, mask pushed up on her head. “I have plenty left and I’ve been practicing, now shush. Don’t break my concentration; this isn’t easy y’know. It’s good practice.”

Well, when she put it like that… If she was getting practice in, he couldn’t really complain anyway. He looked up front and accidentally met Joker’s amused gaze in the mirror.

He blinked, tilting his head to try to figure out what he was laughing at and-

Wait. Had she said that on purpose to keep him still?

Goddammit, he really was that easy to read, wasn’t he?

Joker looked back to the tracks, but Ryuji could see the tilt of his mouth that indicated a smirk. Mentally grumbling, he leaned back. It did feel nice… he might even be able to walk on it properly once they got back outside.

He could hope, at least.

It was quiet the rest of the ride up, just the purr of Mona’s engine, the scratching of Fox’s pencil, and the occasional quiet grunt as Panther shifted her grip. By the time they pulled to a stop at the top, Ryuji’s leg felt… mostly stable, if not quite back to normal.

He was pretty sure he could put pressure on it, at least, though the twinge he felt when he stood up quickly had him shifting pressure back off it and onto the seat. “Shit,” he hissed out, trying to plot out the quickest, least painful way home from here. “Goddamn stupid-  _ ugh.” _

“Ryuji…” Panther murmured, pain flashing across her eyes before she was ducking under his arm again. “C’mon, let’s at least get back to Shibuya.”

Joker was already at ground level, and Ryuji felt humiliation burn his face as they helped him down.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not able to meet their eyes. He felt… so goddamned weak, that he couldn’t even handle his own weight.

“Is it always this painful?” Yusuke asked once they’d returned to Shibuya and Ryuji leaned against the wall.

He grimaced, crossing his arms. “Everytime it rains, yeah. Some days are worse than others, but anytime the pressure changes it hurts down to the damn bone, and feels like it’s bein’-” He broke off, biting back the  _ “shattered with a bat all over again”, _ because he didn’t want to see the hurt looks on their faces.

The way they all winced and furious grief flashed across Ann’s face was bad enough. Even Morgana was giving him a concerned look. There was something dark in Akira’s eyes as they lingered on Ryuji’s leg, and it made something twist in his chest. Happiness and guilt intermingled at the proof that he had people who cared about him now.

He rolled his shoulders and pushed up. “It’s fine, just gotta deal. I’m pretty used to it by now. Anyway, we done for the day? I’m gonna head home and grab a shower if we are.”

Akira nodded. “Yeah. I’m busy the next couple of days, too, so we’re not meeting up. I’ll text you all to let you know when we’re meeting up again.” Wait what? That was news to him-

“Understood,” Yusuke inclined his head. “In that case, I will take my leave as well. Please inform me when we are to return to Mementos.”

“Got it. Before you go, here.”

“This is-?”

“Your share of what we earned today.”

“I was under the impression that you kept possession of the money for our Thievery efforts.”

“For the most part, yes, because the other two decided it was better than risking their impulse control.” Morgana explained. “But once we hit a certain threshold it becomes a bit silly to hang onto so much, so we distribute the excess money evenly.”

He said that, but Ryuji had his doubts. He was pretty sure he was getting more than he was supposed to, and Ann and Akira always got dodgy when he tried to bring it up. And a glance at the money Yusuke was being handed made him very skeptical about “equal”. But they’d all heard about Yusuke’s living habits, so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna say anything.

(And he may not be as smart as them, but he wasn’t actually  _ that _ stupid. He knew they were doing the same thing to him, and he… appreciated it. His leg made it damn near impossible to get an actual job to help his mom, even if he  _ wanted _ to, so this… helped.)

“Use at least  _ half _ of it on food,” Ryuji added to Yusuke.

The artist’s brow furrowed. “Half?” He said it uncertainly, as though the concept of food was foreign to him.

“Yeah,  _ half,” _ Ryuji huffed. “You don’t eat enough, and you already got other money to spend on art stuff, right? Y’need to eat better, ‘specially now that you’re fighting and stuff. If you collapse in the middle of a Shadow attack it’s gonna be bad for everyone.” He rubbed his leg absently, mind drifting to what could have happened if it had been in the middle of a fight when his leg had collapsed, rather than a break.

The way understanding and sympathy lit up Yusuke’s expression made Ryuji’s back stiffen as he looked away. He didn’t need- he was fine. The last thing he wanted was  _ pity _ .

“Ah, I understand. It is an angle I hadn’t considered, but an infringement upon any of our health could be detrimental to the efficiency of the group. I will endeavour to mitigate any such effects upon myself.”

Akira nodded to him. “We’ll be counting on you.”

“Of course; I will not let you down.” He bowed to them slightly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.”

They watched him walk away with bemusement, and Ann turned back to Ryuji. “That was unusually sneaky, for you.”

Ryuji shrugged, watching Yusuke’s tall frame vanish into the crowd. “S’not like I was  _ wrong, _ and we all know he won’t listen if it’s just for his own sake.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” she quipped, leaning on the wall next to him.

He rolled his eyes and nudged her. “Shaddup, I at least  _ try _ .”

“Uh huh, sure,” her eyes glittered with amusement. “So that means you won’t argue against me walking you home?”

“Wha- You don’t gotta do that, I’m fine!”

She and Akira exchanged a look that even he could tell was long-suffering, and he scowled at them.

“Don’t you guys have other stuff to do?”

“Nope,” Ann popped the  _ p _ with an arch look. “I’m all clear for the night, same as everyone else. I always clear my schedule on Mementos or Palace days.”

Ryuji turned an accusing look to Akira, who shrugged. “Boss gave me the key to Leblanc, so my curfew just disappeared.” He fiddled with his bangs, head tilting as a small frown crossed his face. “Unless there’s some reason you don’t want me to come.”

Oh,  _ oh, _ that was goddamn  _ low. _

“It’s not that!” he yelped immediately, because he couldn’t  _ not _ even if it was a manipulation tactic because ninety percent of the time Akira’s jokes and ironic quips were at least partially serious even if he wouldn’t admit it, and Ryuji was not gonna contribute to that. “I just don’t want you guys worrying about me when I’m fine.”

“You can barely walk,” Ann sighed. “Just let us help.”

He didn’t like asking other people for help. It made him feel guilty that he was wasting their time, when he  _ should _ be able to handle it himself. But he could see how worried they were, and knew if he refused they’d just spend the rest of the night stewing over it, and Akira would somehow turn it into it being his own fault which was bullshit because it was on Ryuji, but…

With a loud sigh, he nodded. “Yeah, alright, whatever. Let’s just… go then.”

The relief that lit up their eyes made it a little less frustrating.

The fact that they ducked under his arms for the third time that day  _ was _ frustrating though, embarrassment making him duck his head as they maneuvered onto the train. The way Akira squeezed his side and Ann bumped her head against his shoulder helped, though, even with the occasional glance in their direction.

Though the fact that several of those glances were filled with mild jealousy, even as other guys stayed away for once, made it kinda worth it, and Ann was unusually relaxed as she leaned against him and the wall, resting her head on his shoulder. And hey, even if they were jumping to the completely wrong conclusions (unfortunately- no wait, shit-) as long as they were leaving her alone, it was fine.

(The two old ladies sending him and Akira scandalized glares kind of made him want to copy Ann or something, but he wasn’t quite that brave. But if his arm dropped to around Akira’s waist- well, with the wall right there having his arm that high up  _ was _ kinda uncomfortable.)

(The quicksilver smirk Akira flashed him said they were on the same wavelength, as always, and as Ann gave a knowing giggle Ryuji pushed away the flicker of disappointment that it  _ wasn’t _ what everyone thought. This was more than enough.)

They finally reached his stop, and he resignedly gave the directions. For how much he’d protested, he was suddenly reluctant to split. It was nice, having friends like this who’d do things like this. Even Morgana wasn’t making his usual snips- though he was also hiding from the rain, so that could be part of it.

When they reached his apartment building, they both eyed the old elevator skeptically and he laughed.

“It’s all creaky, but it still works fine. The maintenance guys check it every couple weeks just in case, and it hasn’t had any problems since we’ve moved here.”

“I guess…” Ann said dubiously.

Akira shrugged. “Can’t be any more dangerous than rappelling up a castle.”

The look Ann sent him spoke of her feelings clearly, making them both snicker as Akira hit the button. Ryuji couldn’t bite back his amused grin as they both cringed at the squeals the elevator made as it laboured its way to the seventh floor. They all pointedly avoided leaning against the stained walls, though.

Ryuji snorted at the horrified looks on their faces at the way the elevator shuddered as it stopped. Ann all but dragged them out, and Akira was not being gentle as he pushed Ryuji after her, and Ryuji couldn’t help but snicker.

“We are taking the stairs back down,” Ann declared firmly.

“Watch out for the ones on the fourth floor,” Ryuji said absently as he led them down the walkway to he and his mom’s apartment. “The screws holding the metal to the building are a bit loose in a couple of places, and a couple of the railings are just tied together with string, so you prolly don’t wanna lean on them.”

They sent him another horrified look. “You live in a death trap!” Ann squawked.

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad, way better than the one we lived in before-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn’t want to kill the mood by bringing  _ him _ up. “-before ma got a new job in this district and we moved here.”

They undoubtedly caught his slip, but they didn’t call him on it. He was grateful for it.

“Anyway, it’s just old. They keep the maintenance up to date, so there’s nothing actually dangerous about it. Promise. Well, except for maybe the railings on the outside stairs.”

“Joker, you have your grappling hook still, right?”

Ryuji barked out a laugh at the alarmed look Akira sent her. “I do, yes, but I’ve never tested it in the real world and I’m not sure I want to  _ now _ .”

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine, I just want a failsafe for when the fourth floor tries to kill us.”

“Ah. Fair enough.”

“You guys…” Ryuji grinned and shook his head as they stopped at his door, ignoring the painful twinge of his leg as he stood up fully. “It’ll be fine, promise.”

“So  _ you _ say…” Ann grumbled, but she smiled at him. “You gonna be okay? We can stick around for a while if we need to.”

“Annnnn,” he groaned. “I’m  _ fine _ , seriously. It’s nothing I haven’t been dealing with, alright? I’ll be fine, I know how to handle it.”

Akira sighed, shifting his bag. “Doesn’t mean we don’t want to help.”

There was that feeling again, twisting in his chest. “Not really much you can do,” he shrugged apologetically. “I’ll take some pain meds and slap a heating pad on it, then sleep it off. S’not really much I can do beyond that.”

Their dissatisfied frowns made him sigh.

“Will you be alright on your own, though?” Ann pressed.

“It’s fine, ma will be home-”

The door behind him opened and he turned to blink at his mother.

“-later? Ma? I thought you had to work until tonight?”

She smiled tiredly at him. “The paperwork was pushed through earlier than expected, so the new nurse was able to start today. They gave her my night shift to teach her the ropes, and let me go home early.” She looked past him to the two standing there with deer-in-headlights expressions, smile widening like she’d seen something funny. “I’m guessing you two are his friends?”

“O-Oh! Um, yes!” Ann came to life and bowed. “Ann Takamaki, it’s a pleasure to meet you Sakamoto-san!”

Akira followed her example. “Akira Kurusu.”

She nodded, and the twinkle in her eyes set him immediately on edge. “I see, so you two are the ones he’s always talking and worrying about. Always, “I wonder if Akira’s getting enough rest. Should I grab a soda on the way to school?” and, “Ann looked down yesterday, maybe I should grab a cupcake from the shop on central”. And there’s another one now, Yusuke-kun was it? He’s been worrying about him eating enough-”

“MA!” Ryuji yelped in protest, face burning. “Don’t say stuff like that!” He scrambled to get between her and them, turning to say, “Thanks for walking me home, but I’m good now. You should head home, so-”

He was cut off by his mother’s scolding swat to his shoulder. “Sakamoto Ryuji you are not going to kick your friends out after they walked you all the way here.” His spluttered protest broke off with a hiss as he accidently shifted weight onto his leg, making it twinge. His mother caught it and flicked it a concerned glance. “You’re legs acting up?”

He sighed and rubbed it. “Just bit, from the rain. I was gonna put a pad on it and grab some pain meds.”

She sent him a knowing look. “Couldn’t have made it from the station by yourself, though.”

“I could have-!”

“But we wouldn’t let him,” Ann interjected his protest with a look. “We were worried he’d hurt himself worse.” He mouthed  _ “snitches” _ to Akira’s smirk.

His mother sighed, but she was smiling slightly. “Alright, come on in. I can make some tea, if you’d like.”

They both looked alarmed.

“Oh, you don’t have to!” Ann hurriedly said. “We wouldn’t want to intrude, especially not if you have time off!”

“Nonsense,” his mother brushed them off. “It’s the least I can do for my son’s friends, especially if they’re looking out for him so much.” She smiled at them, the same smile that always made Ryuji cave to whatever would make her keep smiling, and apparently they were no better as they hesitantly followed her in. Ryuji shrugged wryly at them.

“S-Sorry for the intrusion,” Ann said as she slipped off her shoes, glancing around nervously.

Akira was no better, though there was curiosity there too.

“You don’t got to act like the house is gonna eat you.” Ryuji grinned at them. “I dunno why you’re suddenly freaking out.”

“I don’t exactly get invited over to friend’s houses a lot!” Ann hissed. “I’ve only ever visited Shiho, and that was  _ after _ meeting her parents other places!”

Akira shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ve never gone over to anyone’s house. Even if someone had invited me, my parents never would have allowed it.”

Ryuji stared at them blankly for a second. That was… really sad actually. “I mean, we all went to Leblanc literally last week, so… It’s not really any different.”

“I wasn’t the visitor, though,” Akira mumbled under his breath, and he looked so uncomfortable that Ryuji had to bump his shoulder.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not a big deal. Ma’s not really much more formal than I am,” he shrugged. “Just doesn’t curse as much in front of other people.” He flashed a grin at them “Put your feet on the table and she’ll kick your ass, though.”

Akira snorted as Ann laughed, “Like we’d do that!” and they both relaxed, so he counted it as a win.

He led the way into the living area attached to the kitchen, nudging them towards the couch. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m gonna go grab the medicine.” He sent an apologetic glance to Akira’s borderline panicked one. “Seriously, it won’t take long.” He ducked down the hall, feeling mildly guilty, but it really  _ wouldn’t _ take long.

When he made it back, they had somehow talked their way into helping. Judging by the way his mother was holding and petting a purring Morgana, he had a decent guess to how. He shook his head with a grin and stepped up to nab the cups from the cabinet just as Ann got the leaves ready, and Akira poured the water into the cups smoothly. It was good to know their teamwork was solid, even outside the Metaverse.

As they settled on the couch with his mother in the chair to the side, Ryuji leaned against Akira’s shoulder and pressed his leg to Ann’s, and noted they were both finally relaxed as his mother struck up a conversation about clothing lines with Ann, Akira listening curiously. Morgana was practically boneless as Ryuji’s mother scratched behind his ears, and she was watching them with a soft look as they talked. It made something warm in Ryuji’s chest, and he noted their hesitantly happy smiles as well.

Huh.

He decided, as Akira leaned further into him and Ann rested her elbow on his knee, that he’d definitely bring them home more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji has a wonderful mother who absolutely teams up with Boss, Lala, and a reluctant Iwai to adopt all of these stray teens. It is an actual crime that we didn't get to ever see her in canon I cannot BELIEVE Atlas.


	22. Day 22 - Poisoned/Drugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro’s been here many times before, he knows this song and dance, but that doesn’t make it any more pleasant- or safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fic I’ve been half-working on for a while, P5 full-party NG+ where all party members and confidants come back with Akira. Goro and Haru are “infiltrating” one of Shido’s parties to gather information.
> 
> Shido doesn’t associate with particularly pleasant people, and many of the partygoers have a bit too much fun hazing younger attendees with alcohol.
> 
> So it turns out the FFXV OST works really well with the atmosphere of this. Especially Cartanica.
> 
> The reason this is out so quickly if because I've been doing a lot of these out of order, because some give me flashes of inspiration and others don't. The last one took me a while to finish, because I was working on this one. Surprise surprise, this one was done first. XD
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Self-recrimination, Flashbacks, PTSD of assassinations, Underage drinking, Forced drinking, Suggestive comments (about others), Goro is not having a good time, Haru is barely restaining herself from breaking people, The PT are becoming a lot more sympathetic to Goro’s willingness to kill these people

Goro wove amongst the party-goers with the ease of experience, placid smile in place. Women in evening dresses, men in tuxedos, classical music sweeping through the rented venue as denizens of the high class mingled for their own benefit, puppets on Shido’s strings.

Over two years now, and Goro still despised these things.

He glanced at Haru out of the corner of his eye, shadowing her father demurely. Her engagement to Sugimura still wasn’t finalized, thankfully, so at least  _ he _ wasn’t here. That would have made it much harder for her to gather information. As it was, she remained close to Okumura as he mingled with his compatriots.

Goro bit back a sneer at their braggartly behavior, obvious even across the room. He was half-tempted to wander over there with his usual placid smile, just to remind them of  _ whomst _ they were discussing in such a boasting manner, but it was a bit too early in the evening to be intimidating corporation heads. He’d wait until they were a bit more drunk so he could get them really unsettled- not that they would understand it at the time. The real fun was later, after they had sobered up and realized the undertones to his conversation. By that point it always left them uncertain as to whether they’d  _ actually _ read his tone right, or if the alcohol was messing with them.

They were at least smart enough, and self-preserving enough, to trust paranoia and carefully play extra nice the next time they met, and it was always so amusing watching them scramble to avoid any insinuation that they weren’t fully supportive of he and Shido. Especially knowing that, were he not in the position that he was, they would be as condescending and dismissive as possible. And the idea that they were pandering and simpering for the favor of a bastard orphan who’d spent years at the bottom of society- the epitome of very type they would sneer at as filth- filled him with a dark amusement.

He had to take his fun where he could get it.

Instead he drifted towards the buffet along the wall, where small groups of people were chatting.

_ “Ohhhh, that all looks so gooood.” _ Ann groaned through the earpiece, breaking him out of his darkening mood.  _ “Look at those cakes!!” _

_ “Forget the cakes, look at those ribs!” _

_ “Focus, you two. The food isn’t what we’re here for, and you can’t even eat it anyway.” _

Goro had to work to bite back his smile. With he and Haru here to charm information on the far corners of the conspiracy out of people, the rest of the Thieves as well as Sae, Ohya, and Boss, were back at Leblanc running long-distance support and making notes and future plans.

Which mostly consisted of moral support and keeping an ear out for anything he and Haru missed, because there wasn’t exactly anything they could really do to help.

_ “Heyyyy, Goro~!” _

“I can get cake later,” he murmured under his breath, seeming to outsiders to be musing to himself. “Food isn’t the priority.”

_ “I know, but it looks so gooood.” _

“Later,” he chuckled, biting back his smile. “If there’s time.” He would admit that food was one of the few perks to these things, though depending on the company it often just tasted like ash in his mouth.

Or gunpowder, depending.

He shoved away the memories of many other parties like this, where he was here for the same damn thing just in reverse. This time, he was gathering information for legal purposes in reality. Not gathering personal information to track down a Shadow to assassinate.

The food was suddenly a lot less appetizing. But he knew from experience that skipping over it was asking for trouble. The last thing he needed was to get lightheaded from hunger, or-

… if he was lucky, he’d manage to avoid it this time. But it was unlikely, so he needed to at least mitigate its effect later. So, bread, vegetables, and water.

Ignoring the grumbles of certain people on the other end about his food choices, he turned to scan the room.

He saw Ryūken-san across the room in the far corner, lounging lazily against the wall by the window and scanning the crowd as a wolf would a herd of sheep. The yakuza caught his eye and gave a jerk of acknowledgement with his head. Goro inclined his head back, but didn’t go over. While he certainly wasn’t adverse to conversing to the man who had taught him how to shoot, to survive as an assassin ( _ Hierophant _ , a voice that sounded like Morgana murmured in his ear), that wasn’t what he was here for. Comfort was not the goal of the night, so he would be mingling.

Joy.

_ “Dude, that guy was badass and terrifying.” _

_ “Seriously. He kinda seemed… almost nice at the end though.” _

_ “Sure,  _ **_after_ ** _ he beat us into the floor.” _

_ “He did give up the letter pretty easily, though,” _ Joker murmured, and he heard the others quiet down at his tone. It seemed at least one person was taking this seriously.  _ “He doesn’t seem too loyal to Shido.” _

“It’s convenience and legal security, not loyalty,” Goro murmured back. “Now mute the mic unless you have something to say specifically to me.”

_ “Yeah, sorry, good call,” _ Futaba muttered, and he heard the distant sound of typing before it abruptly cut off.

He’d have liked to keep them chattering in his ear, it would certainly make things more pleasant, but unfortunately he needed to focus now. He couldn’t risk getting distracted by them and missing something vital.

Shido and the SIU director were conversing with a few other government officials by the opposite wall, but Goro dismissed them for the moment. He’d work his way up to that, but it was a bit too high-level for the information they were looking for right now.

His best bet was probably the small clique of entrepreneurs a couple of feet away. He paused for a moment as he was assailed by a wave of deja-vu, tilting his head as he tried to remember. As far as he was aware, nothing of import had happened in this time span. No Palace rulers, at least. A few Mementos targets, but no major assassinations. Too busy investigating the Phantom Thieves, setting up the false-Medjed to rocket their popularity in order to dispel them, and whoever Shido chose to pin on them, eventually.

He brushed it off for the moment, but kept it in mind. While they were fooling Shido now- having an organization of Metaverse experts who could help fake deaths on their side was very useful, how did Akira even  _ find _ people like Narukami or get an audience with  _ Kirijo _ \- he didn’t want to risk forgetting something, or someone, important for later.

Goro slid into the group easily with a benign smile and casual internet reference that made the young adults laugh. They were just a few years older than him- most either just graduating college or about to- so they weren’t too patronizing about a high schooler interacting with them, even though they weren’t yet important enough to the Conspiracy to know who, exactly, he was. They assumed he was here with the director, getting acquainted with the higher levels.

He played on that to win them over, portraying all the quirks of a nervous new player on a field of older players. Shifting his weight, flicking glances away occasionally, ducking his head for a moment when addressed only to immediately straighten up to meet their eye… he could see by their smiles that it was working.  _ Hook, line, and sinker; look at the new kid so nervous around adults- how cute. _

Their naivete would be endearing if it wasn’t such a danger to their lives.

(How many, he wondered. How many had he killed last time? He didn’t even remember all the names and faces anymore because he had to block them out or-

_ No, no, not here and now. Focus on the mission, that’s the important part. Your retribution will come with Shido’s. For now, eliminate the death toll that you can. Akira got you all this second chance to be better, you aren’t allowed to waste it on self-pity. _ )

They had good ideas, he could admit as he listened to them talk excitedly about the business ventures they were starting up. That would be why Shido chose them- they had ideas and the charisma and drive to push them through.

Then one of them laughed and spoke up about a new hard drive he was designing that he was certain would overtake the market and-

Oh. Oh  _ no _ . That’s what he’d forgotten. Goro looked more closely at the man- boy, really, just barely twenty-three, only six years older than him- with brown hair and earnest amber eyes that held the determination to see his vision through and-

_ -“I have to see this through, no matter what! I’ve been dreaming of this my whole life! I mean, sure accepting this money is probably underhanded and this business deal is biased towards a certain group, but it’s just the stepping stone. Once I’m in the market I have designs that anyone can get, even people who grew up poor like us!” The Shadow was speaking mostly to itself, the same self-justification that they all used. Goro rolled his eyes and unholstered his gun. It may have been a nice sentiment, but it wouldn’t last. It never did, especially not with people Shido associated with. Not that it mattered anymore for this one. He raised the gun and the Shadow’s attention snapped to him with wide, terrified eyes and- _

Goro bit the inside of his cheek hard to drag himself back to reality. He couldn’t afford to let himself get caught up in ghosts of future past. He’d always remember what he had done, but all he could do was avoid doing it this time.

This time, Sosuke Amaki wouldn’t die by his hand. So he pushed the memories aside to deal with later and ignored the way his hands itched beneath the gloves.

(It would just be one more night of nightmares and washing imaginary blood from his hands.)

“Is something wrong, Akechi-kun?”

Goro blinked and realized he’d been staring at the floor, stomach twisting in knots, though thankfully his plate had been discarded a few minutes prior so it didn’t compound his nausea. He focused back on the conversation with a disarming smile. “Ah, no, nothing, I’m sorry.” He laughed and brought a hand to brush the hair from his face self-consciously. “What you said just reminded me of an acquaintance I have. She likes computers and was recently complaining about finding decent hard drives for a reasonable price, so I was remembering the conversation. I- ah, unfortunately,” he ducked his head sheepishly. “I’m not overly familiar with the hardware side of computers, so most of what she says goes over my head. I’m afraid I’ve only been tangentially following along with your explanations.”

Amaki laughed and waved a hand. “No, no, it’s perfectly alright. I’m used to it, and you’re all much more polite and devoted listeners than I usually get. I’m sorry for overtaking the conversation.” He bowed slightly to the group, charming in much the way a golden retriever was, and Goro was suddenly struck by the need to warn him about the toes he was stepping on.

_ Carefully, _ of course.

“Ah, out of curiosity, have you discussed this idea with Masuta-san? He could potentially have ideas of how to reach the full market, considering how wide-reaching his company is. You might even be able to get a collaboratory deal, which would give your company a good name from the start,” he suggested mildly.

Last time Masuta had found out himself, and had taken it as a threat, which was what had caused him to reach out to Shido and, through him, Goro. Considering his shoddy work as the false-Medjed and, from what Futaba and Mishima had been muttering, half-baked efforts to screw with the Phansite (not that Futaba had stopped needling Mishima about it  _ working _ ), Goro was less than impressed with his paranoid decision to literally jump the gun.

Amaki hesitated nervously, uncertain. “I haven’t, no. I mean… considering he’s the president of that huge IT company, wouldn’t it be presumptuous…? I would love to collaborate, it would be a dream come true! I’m just not sure he’d want to take the time to work with some start-up with no real credit to my name, you know? I was thinking that after I get it out there, and get proof that people are interested, he might be more interested himself!”

Goro opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a new voice.

“Oh, is that so? My, you shouldn’t sell yourself short like that!”

They all jumped and turned to look at the new arrivals. It appeared that Shido’s group had drifted closer and overheard them, and Masuta gave Amaki a friendly smile.

It made disgust curl in Goro’s chest, knowing that Masuta had already been planning on getting Amaki killed over  _ nothing _ . And now here he was acting as though he wanted to play mentor.

God he hated people  _ so fucking much _ .

“M-Masuta-san!” Amaki turned and bowed. “It’s a pleasure, sir! I was really inspired by that new graphics card, it  _ doubled _ the processing speeds from last gen!”

Masuta beamed with pride, ego being stroked. Amaki was clever enough for that, at least. “Ah, it’s good to hear that! I’m rather proud of that one, the design was tricky to get down without overheating and shorting out the CPU, so it’s very nice to hear that someone appreciated the work that went into it.”

_ “Oh my godddd this guy is so much more annoying than I remember.” _ Futaba groaned in his ear.  _ “Ugh, he’s like… all slimy now. At least in Shido’s Palace he was like- sorta dorky almost, even if he was a total asshack.” _

_ “That must have been how Shido saw him,” _ Makoto mused.  _ “In reality, he’s as much a snake-oil salesman as anyone else here.” _

They had no idea.

“So, I’m curious about this new hard drive you’ve created. I’ve heard whispers, and was starting to wonder if I had a potential competitor in the works!” He laughed, and several of the other men in Shido’s entourage chuckled.

Goro continued smiling benignly, internally seething in disgust at the casual disregard for life. It didn’t matter to them that these were  _ people _ . All they saw were tools and threats.

He’d never liked it, but he’d always gone out of his way to distance himself from it. The ends had justified the means, and no matter how disgusted it made him, he’d told himself the end result would be worth it.

He didn’t know if hindsight was twenty-twenty, or if it was a result of Yaldabaoth losing his hold over him, but now that mindset felt completely foreign. It was like looking through a distorted mirror at someone who looked and acted and thought like you, but somehow came to a completely different conclusion to the posited question.

It didn’t matter. What was done was done, what was undone had to be fixed, and he couldn’t afford to question himself  _ in the middle of a mission. _

Amaki launched into an excited explanation of the hard drive, and then shifted into a hopeful pitch of how it could work with Masuta’s company. Masuta was nodding thoughtfully.

“Well, we’ll need to go over the finer details and work out interest and the split of the profits, but it certainly sounds like a promising endeavour!”

“Thank you, sir, I won’t disappoint!” The way Amaki lit up forced Goro to glance away, scanning the faces of everyone else in the groups. The other entrepreneurs were watching with considering expressions, glancing around the room as though sizing up possible contributors. The older adults, CEOs and politicians themselves, were eying them up thoughtfully as well. Shido just watched the whole thing with the amusement of someone watching their favorite show play out, and Goro  _ hated _ him.

“Well then,” Shido chuckled, “all’s well that ends well. New connections are always to be celebrated. A toast to a successful endeavor, perhaps?”

Something was off. Shido had that look of dark amusement that he got whenever he played a particularly cruel trick on someone, and they fell right into it.

(Had he worn that look when Goro had first-

-no, don’t think about it.)

The others all agreed eagerly, and Goro’s stomach dropped as he saw Shido’s entourage fan out around the group. He knew exactly what was coming, and glanced around subtly for an escape. But the SIU director was clapping a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner and cutting off any chance of him to slip away.

_ God damn it, son of a- these  _ **_bastards_ ** _ and their games- _

Goro knew how to handle alcohol. He’d been here plenty of times, danced this dance too many times not to learn the tricks of staying on his feet, but he  _ hated _ it. Despised the vulnerability that came with the lack of a clear mind, of a shaky body, of being the object of a cruel joke the more familiar members of the Conspiracy liked to play on the newer, younger…  _ initiates. _

The difference between a conspiracy and a cult wasn’t as far removed as people may think, he mused as he watched the waitstaff bring over glasses and a variety of bottles.

_ “Ugh,” _ Ryuji muttered in his ear, sounding mildly nauseous.  _ “I don’t get it.” _

Goro bit back a wince. He’d found out about Ryuji’s strong aversion to alcohol- and the reasons  _ why _ \- not to long back, and wished he could warn him that he might want to leave the room. Or at least not watch this.

(He had his own issues with the drink- his own bad memories of bad homes- but he’d become unfortunately well enough acquainted with it to be familiar with its “positives”. He hated situations like this, but when he was alone in his apartment after a series of missions back to back and all he could see was the blood on his hands that wasn’t really there-

-it wasn’t healthy, he  _ knew _ that, but he never expected to live past Shido finding out the truth anyway. He’d expected that one moment of triumph of Shido’s horror before the end- but even that had been only delusion, and Akira had been  _ stupidly _ apologetic when he’d told Goro.)

The glasses were filled and passed around, and the younger ones gave him conspiring and encouraging glances that made him want to laugh and cry. If only they knew. They were treating him like a high school kid just getting a hint of harmless rebellion, when in reality…

The champagne was smooth against his throat, nothing less for the high class and he didn’t even want to  _ think _ about the price tag, and there were laughs and  _ oohs _ and  _ ahhs _ from the newcomers at the quality of it. Exactly as the others had expected, and it made it easy for them to usher another round.

He had to at least  _ try _ . “I’m not sure I should indulge too much, I do have work tomorrow.”

Unfortunately, his direct boss was  _ right there, _ and was the one handing him another glass, and it was summer so he couldn’t even use the excuse of school. “Nonsense, it’s quite alright my boy. With how hard you work, you’ve earned a day off here and there. I’ll take care of it.” The smile he sent Goro was almost grandfatherly.

The look Goro sent back could have scalded, though it vanished before anyone else could see it.  _ I’ve played this game before you old bastard, I know this song and dance. _ They both knew exactly what was going on, and Goro had no interest in getting drunk for their amusement.

Not that he had a  _ fucking choice. _ Not with Shido’s buyers right there. Not with  _ him _ right there, and in this situation, because Goro had a reputation and a position to maintain, and if he folded it would call both himself and Shido into question, and Shido wouldn’t tolerate that.

And now Goro knew exactly how  _ expendable _ Shido considered him.

So, he had to play the game.

He made a quick decision and, under the guise of brushing his hair out of his face, disabled Futaba’s bug. The earphone, at least. They’d still see and hear everything, but he wouldn’t hear them. He couldn’t afford the potential distraction of their negative reactions now.

Sighing, he accepted the second glass of champagne. From the corner of his eye, he saw Haru turn to look at him with a concerned furrow to her brow. He carefully didn’t look over.

The third round was passed out, and then another, and another, and Goro kept an eye on the newcomers. It quickly became clear that they weren’t as experienced as they’d pretended, and Goro was increasingly glad that he’d had the foresight and paranoia to take steps.

Others wandered over and joined in, laughing and talking and watching the newcomers drink as though it was a show, and he made the mistake of glancing over to see Okumura and Haru less than ten feet away now. She was watching him from the corner of her eye, and he could see the burning worry in them. He looked away, back to the main party, and resignedly handed his glass back. Thankfully champagne was light, and he’d eaten, and he’d built up a tolerance to alcohol, so he wasn’t even lightheaded yet. Unlike some of the others who were starting to sway slightly.

One of these days he was going to learn not to jinx himself.

Because when another glass was pressed into his hand, it was  _ not _ a champagne flute, nor was the dark brown liquid champagne.

He flashed a borderline mutinous look at the director before smoothing it out. “Really?”

“Just try it, you may like it,” he chuckled. “It’s very high quality.”

“I’m familiar with Shido-san’s preferences,” Goro said pleasantly. “However whiskey is not really my preferred drink.” He didn’t like the smoky tang, or how pronounced the fermented taste was, and the smell and taste reminded him too much of beer which was- no.

But he couldn’t refuse, especially not with Shido sending him that amused look that was almost a challenge, so he tipped the glass back and swallowed it down. The alcohol burned and the taste made him want to gag, but he swallowed it down and handed the glass back with barely a grimace.

(The fact that his eyes didn’t even water was a tell, one he was aware of, one he knew the others would recognize, one he was certain at least Ohya and Akira would recognize and comment on, and he really was not looking forward to that conversation. Sae and Makoto were going to tear him apart.)

The director chuckled again. “Well, I suppose it’s not for everyone. I believe- ah, yes, Ishii-san has some new drinks she’s offered to distribute for this special occasion.” He winked. “Hasn’t even hit the market yet.”

What- no. No, it was- that wasn’t until later.  _ After _ Medjed’s attack and subsequent “subduing”. She shouldn’t have finished it earlier, unless-

Unless she hadn’t, and Shido was just utilizing it earlier. As a sick hazing ritual against the newcomers to give them a sense of inferiority and embarrassment, rather than a celebration of his closest allies at a job well done.

Goro watched with trepidation as the waitstaff rolled out several carts of bottles. Ishii-san stepped up to them proudly and began explaining proofs and flavorings and exotic imports and Goro tuned it out because ultimately, it didn’t matter.

The specifics weren’t going to make him any less sick the next two days.

It didn’t really need mentioning, Goro thought tiredly as a glass of clear liquid was pressed into his hand by the director, but Shido’s inner circle was full of  _ sadists _ .

At least it wasn’t whiskey. Goro didn’t flinch as he threw the vodka back, reaching for the familiar disconnect that he’d utilized constantly the past two- technically three including time travel- years.

Hopefully the others were paying attention, because as of now he wouldn’t be focusing on the mission.

_ “Survival comes first. Everything else is secondary.” _

Perhaps he shouldn’t be taking life advice from the yakuza clan leader who’d taught him to shoot, to kill, but he’d also taught him to survive in  _ this _ world. And he’d kept an eye out on him, even if he kept to a distance, which was more than anyone else had done and-

No. Drifting. Focus.

Goro bit his cheek again and scanned the crowd around them. The haziness was setting in now, and he knew he’d start getting dizzy within ten minutes, and his stomach would start aching within half an hour. Great.

He hated this.

_ Focus. Mask up. No slipping, everyone is watching. If you fall apart you die. You fail again, it’s game over. And this time, there won’t be a save to reload. _

So he took the glass that was offered and flashed a smile at the woman handing it to him- Ishii-san was beautiful in the same terrifying way that Queen and Noir were, the way that if you crossed her you’d never be found and she’d find it amusing- before swallowing it back. She smiled back at him- sharp as a knife and he had the idle thought that she’d get along with Akira if he lost his morals- and retrieved the glass and sauntered away.

“Damn, what a woman,” the director murmured, watching her go with an appreciative gaze. Goro didn’t bother pointing out that she was a good thirty years too young for him. None of these bastards cared about that.

On that note, he flicked a concerned gaze to Haru. She was being ignored, however, still standing in her father’s shadow watching the proceedings with a narrowed gaze. She wasn’t watching him anymore, but he could see by how tightly her hands were grasped that it was through her own force of will.

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the warm feeling that came with having someone who cared.

Focusing his attention back to the scene in front of him, he watched Masuta set an amiable hand on Amaki’s shoulder as he handed him another glass. The younger man was clearly sliding towards the  _ wasted _ end of drunk, and Goro felt a stab of pity. Still, at least he’d be in Masuta’s favor now, which improved his chances of survival dramatically.

“You disapprove?” The director asked slyly, acknowledging Goro’s disdainful air at the scene.

He shrugged, careful not to move too much. The stiller he stayed, the less obviously affected he was. “I disapprove being dragged into this game yet again. I don’t particularly care about them,” he took another sip of vodka- at least the director wasn’t being cruel enough to keep forcing whiskey on him- as he eyed the way the others were starting to sway and stumble to the amusement of the more experienced members of the party. “-though I pity their heads later. Still, that’s what they get for pretending to be more experienced than they are.”

The director sent him a mirthful look. “You’re as aloof as ever. I don’t recall you ever being so affected, even the first time you participated.”

“ _ Participated _ is such a nice way of describing being trapped by social standards and expectations.” Though his voice remained light, he dropped his volume and allowed a thread of poison to slip into it. “I’ve never been so naive as to assume that this situation is anything but what it is, nor am I interested in falling into the traps set. I’ll not make a fool of myself for their entertainment- especially not given my position.” He side-eyed the director. “Shido-san would be  _ displeased _ if he lost face due to my actions.” Hence why, for all that he was targeted, no one ever pushed him into the levels of humiliation that the other young participants were subject to the first time. Unfortunately, it meant that they compensated by roping him into it multiple times.

Though it wasn’t usually pushed this far, he thought sickly as his glass was filled  _ again _ , this time with something else. It was blue?

“Ah, Blue Curaçao,” the director said appreciatively, accent twisting around the foreign words as he dismissed Goro’s scathing comment. “Imported from the Americas, I believe.”

Goro held it up to the light skeptically. “Dare I ask?”

“Distilled from the laraha orange directly from Curaçao, an island in the Caribbean just off the coast of Venezuela,” Ishii-san purred smoothly with a smile as she rejoined them, and between the dark red lipstick and the long, straight black hair and the form-fitting black dress, he could easily see her as the evil queen from a fairytale. Poison and all. “I’m rather fond of it myself, it makes such lovely colors when mixed.”

It was pretty enough, he supposed, which made him that much more skeptical of the taste. He took a sip to gauge it, and arched a brow. “It’s sweeter than your normal recommendations,” he noted mildly, taking care to pay attention to his enunciation. He wasn’t going to start slipping so soon. Although it was incredibly sweet- he could actually enjoy this.

“It is, I prefer more bitter brews,” she acknowledged. “But some people have a sweet tooth-” her smile was knowing, and he hated that she was calling him on it, “-and I believe the color makes up for its unusual sweetness.”

“I suppose mixing it with something like cranberry juice would balance it out, as well as give a nice color,” he mused thoughtfully.

“Oh yes, although I’m actually rather fond of pomegranate juice and a splash of Tequila myself- it really cuts the sweetness and adds a nice rich woody flavor and a sharp touch. As well, depending on what you mix it with, you can get such beautiful colors.”

He wasn’t the least bit surprised by that. “Ah, I can certainly see the appeal.” He really didn’t, but then he didn’t particularly like alcohol anyway. Not for the taste, though admittedly this was more tolerable than some, and certainly not around other people. As someone who ran a food blog he could appreciate the aesthetic and social appeal, but that was the extent of it.

(As a professional murderer, he could appreciate the hazy disconnect it created- but not around other people.)

Goro continued sipping the drink as he watched the party continue, trying to draw the glass out to delay the inevitability of it being refilled. Ishii-san wandered back over to the drink carts, sashaying between groups with the grace and lethality of a black mamba, while all the men were eyeing her up hungrily.

But she had a reputation, and no one here was bold enough or stupid enough to make a move.

A few other politicians stepped up to talk to the SIU director, discussing various cases and crimes and potential connections they may need to cover up, but it wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. None of it had to do with him, either, or the information the Thieves were trying to gather, so he listened and watched and tried to make the liquor in his glass last longer without being obvious.

His attention was drawn once again to Haru, who had now been drawn into conversation with a young man with a pleasant smile, a sharp suit, and a drink in his hand. Goro was immediately suspicious, especially with the telling flush across his cheeks and the way Haru’s smile was just a touch too fixed. Shit, he shouldn’t have turned his earpiece off- they were supposed to be watching out for each other as well, and she was in more danger than he was.

The man stepped closer to her, snagging another drink from a passing waiter and offering it to her. Goro’s eyes narrowed, irritation swirling through his chest at the man’s obvious intentions as Haru tried to refuse him despite his pressing.

“You should go help her.”

Goro blinked and turned to see the director watching him with twinkling eyes. The others looked amused as well, glancing between them. Shit. “Pardon?”

“She looks rather distressed.” Goro stiffened at the voice from just behind him, the hand that settled amicably on his shoulder, as Shido continued with a chuckle. “You’ve been watching her all night. I’m sure she’d be grateful for the assistance, and you should relax more often. There’s no harm in having a bit of fun with a lovely lady.”

_ Shit, fuck, son of a  _ **_goddamn_ ** _ \- of all the things for him to notice- _

Deflect, deflect, deflect, deflect. The last thing they needed was Shido’s attention on Haru, especially in regards to Goro having a so-called  _ interest _ in her. That was how liabilities were created. “Ah, I wouldn’t want to intrude on another’s business. Especially with Okumura such a new ally; making an advance on his soon-to-be-engaged daughter seems a rather bad-faith motion.”  _ Please just leave it alone, and don’t you dare drag me down to  _ **_your_ ** _ level you fucking philanderer. _

His heart sank as Shido waved it off. “Nonsense, I’m sure he’ll be grateful to know that you’re looking out for her interests.” Ah, so it was a power-play over Okumura as well as an attempt to bait Goro into doing something stupid. Shido smiled knowingly, and Goro dearly wished to draw his gun and end everything here and now. Because that sly quip had just become all but an  _ order _ , because Shido  _ knew _ that Goro understood his intentions, and Goro  _ burned _ knowing he’d inadvertently given Shido the opportunity.

**_Bastard._ ** Morrigan hissed in his mind, vocal for the first time since the party began, but she kept her dark rage to a simmer as she returned to silence. There was too much at stake to strike, and the goddess of war knew the value of waiting until a tactically appropriate time. That didn’t mean either of them liked it.

She was more level-headed than Loki had ever been, at least, which it made it easier to curb his own fury.

“Ah,” Goro hesitated as though flustered for a moment, playing into Shido’s expectations of his naivete. As if he were  _ actually _ so innocent, by this point. “I suppose so. Especially as I believe this is her first experience with one of the gatherings you’ve hosted.”

Shido chuckled and patted his shoulder in a proud manner and Goro bit back a cringe of furious disgust (especially at that tiny part in the back of his mind that still desperately yearned for-  _ no _ ). God he hated him.

At least this would give him the opportunity to escape him. For the moment.

Oh, this was such a bad idea.

Still, his choice in the matter had been effectively removed, so he turned and made his way towards Haru and her unwanted devotee. His head was spinning almost immediately as the alcohol made its effects known, lightness swirling in his chest even as his stomach twisted, and he hated it. But he was unfortunately familiar with it, so it was easy enough to compensate. He hoped.

He stepped into the conversation with a pleasant smile and a light, “Okumura-san, a moment?”

“Hey, who are you to-” The man turned towards him with an unfriendly scowl, but immediately blanched and backed off when he saw who it was. Good, he was one of Shido’s confidants so he knew exactly who Goro was. “Uh-”

Goro gave him a plastic smile that wasn’t the least bit threatening, and seemed to alarm everyone who was in the know so very much. “Apologies for the interruption of your overture, but I needed to speak with her for a moment. Unless you were doing something important?”

“Ah- no- that is-” The man stuttered and backed away with a shaky smile more fake than Goro’s. “It’s nothing important! I’ll leave you to your conversation.” He hurried away, and Goro hid his smirk behind his glass- which had gotten refilled again with something clear when he wasn’t looking. Or maybe he had been and just hadn’t been paying attention.

“Ah, thank you for that,” Haru said softly, her expression demure, but Goro saw the concern and question in her eyes.

“Of course, it was no trouble,” he said lightly, skimming the area around them. It seemed they were secluded enough that they should be able to talk freely- albeit quietly. He lowered his voice. “Shido’s aiming for something to hold over your father’s head, in case you were wondering what this is about.”

Understanding lit her eyes, and she smiled brightly at him even as she murmured, “I suppose that makes sense. Was that it, though? He didn’t bother with anything like that last time.”

“You weren’t involved last time,” Goro pointed out. “But no, he’s also trying to bait me into making a fool of myself to hold over  _ my _ head- or create a liability in you to wrap another noose around my neck.” His voice edged dangerously towards bitter, but he caught himself before his smile could slip. “It’s rare for him to ever have one reason when he can have many.” He took another swallow of the drink, biting back a grimace. He really hated this.

Something flickered through her eyes. “Shouldn’t you-?”

“Probably.” Goro sighed, swirling the drink around the glass and picking up residual coloring, turning the vodka a dusty blue. It was pretty, but the sweetness wasn’t enough to cut through the bitterness. “Unfortunately if I stop, someone else was jump in and shove more at me. The best I can hope for is to pace myself, and hope the party ends before I get too much. It happens more often than not at these things.”

“That’s…”

“Awful? Disgusting? Manipulative and sadistic? I am, unfortunately, well aware. Equally unfortunately, I can do nothing about it but endure.”

Her look softened at him, and he caught himself and flashed her a pleasant smile to replace the hint of sourness he’d accidentally allowed to slip in.

“Well, it is what it is so I generally try to turn it into something neutral, if not favorable. I’m… sorry for leaving you like that. I was worried how the distraction would mix with the alcohol.”

“That’s true,” she murmured. “The last thing we need is for you to answer a question from the others while in the middle of a conversation with one of Shido’s compatriots. It’s alright, it wasn’t a problem.”

“It could have been, but I digress,” he countered. “Where did your father go?”

“Ah, he followed one of the other CEOs while Himura-san was attempting to… coerce me.”

Goro felt himself twitch, but didn’t react beyond that. “I see. Well, I hope your night has been more lucrative than mine. I haven’t gotten much done besides somewhat accidentally averting an assassination. Although in that regard, it makes this whole situation indirectly my fault…” He shook his head wryly.

Haru blinked at him. “I… don’t quite follow?” Her expression was bemused, and he huffed out a laugh.

“Amaki- the entrepreneur I was talking to earlier- is making a new hard drive that outstrips anything Masuta’s company is currently putting out. Amaki didn’t want to collaborate because he assumed he’d be rebuffed, and so didn’t even try. Last time- and this time, though it’s taking longer- Masuta took it as a threat rather than insecurity, and asked Shido to remove Amaki. So I said something this time, and Masuta realized the truth and shifted his whole position.” Goro sighed, holding up his glass pointedly. “Which Shido’s entourage took advantage of in order to pull their usual hazing of new potential members of the conspiracy.”

“Getting them all wasted and making idiots of them in order to instill an image of superiority?” She guessed brightly, face deceptively innocent.

It made his smile curl into something more genuine at the glimpse of her true nature as he chuckled. “Exactly, yes.”

She nodded. “Higher-ups in the company do the same thing.”

“Power plays are power plays,” he agreed dryly, taking another sip. “Last time, this particular alcohol showcase didn’t happen until the celebration of the false-Medjed trick.” She tilted her head, eying the glass thoughtfully. He arched a brow. “I can guarantee you don’t want any.”

“Oh?” She ducked her head demurely, peeking up at him from beneath her lashes, and it was Noir who gazed at him and murmured, “That sounds almost like a challenge.”

“It definitely is not, but if you’re so curious…” He offered the drink to her, acutely aware of the people watching them. If they were going to play this game, might as well play it right. Shido would see an illusion of what  _ he _ would do in this situation and be satisfied at the scene, and most of the others would see something similar. And considering Okumura had abandoned his daughter to a random flirt, he doubted he’d care much.

“And now it sounds like a trap.” Regardless, she reached out an hesitantly accepted the drink- a counterpoint to the iron in her eyes that said she knew this dance as well as he did.

She sniffed it with an uncertain expression, and he chuckled. “Don’t sip, take a full swallow quickly.”

“ _ You’ve _ been sipping it.”

“I have experience, so I know how to do it without inhaling a lungful of fumes. Which I’m sure Ohya can confirm as well as I can that you do not want to do.” He watched her tilt her head, likely listening to the people on the other end of the line, and added, “It feels about the same as inhaling the residual smoke from a Megido Bomb.”

_ “Oh.” _ She said in pained realization. “Yes, that would be a problem.” She frowned consideringly at the drink and he shrugged.

“You don’t have to-”

Noir flicked a narrow look at him. “Don’t patronize me, Akechi-kun.”

Well then.

He immediately bit back a snort when she took a gulp and cringed with a disgusted expression, turning away and covering her mouth.

“Oh, that’s  _ awful _ ,” she said with a hoarse voice, as though fighting back a coughing fit. She probably was.

“Vodka generally is, yes,” he agreed with amusement and took the glass back, swallowing the last mouthful with a straight face. He could see by the look in her eyes that she would  _ absolutely _ get him back later for showing her up, and it made him grin at her. “Are you alright?”

“I am perfectly fine, thank you,” she sniffed and straightened, and forced her hand from her mouth. “People drink that willingly?”

“Not for the taste, I assure you.”

“Oh come now, it isn’t so bad,” Ishii-san was suddenly next to him, exchanging his empty glass for a full one.  _ Dammit. _ “Especially  _ mine.” _

“Of course not, you’ve naught but the highest quality,” Goro said lightly, with his usual smile back in place. “However it is not a drink kind to the inexperienced, nor do I know anyone who choose it themselves,” here he sent her a pointed smile, “-who do so for its taste, rather than its potent effects.”

She laughed and patted his arm. “Oh, but those are the enjoyments of it.”

_ Devil _ indeed. Were all confidants of that Arcana drawn to alcohol, he wondered, or were he and Akira simply that similar? Perhaps he should ask Narukami, it would be an interesting conversation if nothing else- wait, they were talking. Shit.

“-admit I’m less than fond of the idea,” Haru admitted pleasantly, though warily. “I’ve seen too many executives lose their footholds in the company due to careless actions whilst inhibited.”

“Smart girl,” Ishii-san said approvingly. She slanted a sly look at Goro. “You’ve good taste, Akechi-kun.”

He sighed, ignoring the heat rising more quickly to his face. “Please don’t tease me, Ishii-san, that wasn’t-”

“Oh please, you aren’t fooling me darling. I saw how you were looking at her,” she winked at him, and his chest went  _ cold _ and his smile fixed _. _ “It’s cute, seeing you so happy. I’ll leave you two alone now~!” She sauntered off.

Goro stared down at his drink, mind struggling to think of a way out of this through the haze.

“Goro?” Haru asked softly, and the concern was back.

It made the panic in his chest tighten. “That’s-  _ shit _ ,” he hissed.

She frowned at him. “What’s wrong? I expected you to be embarrassed, not…”

“Worried?” He bit out.

“Panicking, actually; and no,” she added as his gaze flicked up with alarm, “it’s not on your face, but I can read you. What’s wrong?”

“If  _ she _ saw it then Shido  _ definitely _ saw it,” he ground out. “I was trying to  _ avoid _ drawing too much attention to you, instead-”

“We knew I wouldn’t be able to keep a low profile,” she pointed out softly, forcing a smile onto her face. “If nothing else, I’m involved through father.”

He breathed out with a faux smile of his own. “Yes, but you wouldn’t have been a major point of his attention even with that. He can and will use any emotional connection to control anyone, and even this much is enough for him to hold you over my head if he needs to force me to do something.”

“I don’t believe it puts me in undue danger. There’s still too many other strings attached to me for him to easily remove me. Besides, he seems like the type to force you to kill me to prove your loyalty, and we both know why that’s not a concern- any more than any of your other assassinations since we returned.”

His lips tightened against his smile. “Perhaps, but that does not remove the danger- especially given the unnecessity of it. If I’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have been a problem-”

“Don’t,” she cut him off gently but firmly. “Do not blame yourself for something like this, particularly when no damage has been done. You were concerned about me, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“It drew the wrong attention.” Goro skimmed his gaze across the other party-goers. The group he’d initially been talking to was well and truly wasted now, and several of them were stumbling around trying to dance with various partners, to much laughter and jeering. It made him sick, and the amused looks Shido’s group was still sending him only compounded the feeling. The burn welled in his chest and crawled up his throat, and he forcefully swallowed it back down.

Crying was quite possibly the  _ worst _ thing he could do right now.

Haru set her hand on his arm- grip deceptively gentle-looking compared to the steely sensation. And outsider would have no idea. It forced his gaze back to her, and she met his eyes steadily as she leaned closer.

“It’s not the worst thing to happen, and isn’t necessarily a detriment. There are many ways we could play this to our hand.” She squeezed his arm. “ So don’t worry so much, alright?” Haru paused. “Also, are you-”

“No,” he cut her off immediately, looking away to the floor to hide his borderline watery eyes.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. The answer is no.”

Her lips twitched up. “Are normally this emotional when drunk?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Ohya says no.”

“Ohya is a fucking liar.”

She slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her burst of startled laughter, eyes bright as she looked at him. He sighed as she giggled, squeezing his arm to steady herself. “O-Oh, I always somehow forget.”

He grumbled. “Forget what?”

With a bright smile she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, murmuring, “That you’re more vulgar than any of the rest of us.”

Goro ran a hand through his hair, flustered, as she leaned back. “I am  _ not _ as bad as Futaba.”

“I- Well, point. But no one is.” He watcher her bite her lip, swallowing a laugh at whatever Futaba doubtlessly said on the other end, and couldn’t help the fond warmth the bubbled in his chest.

He sincerely hoped that he could come up with a way to make this situation a good one when his head was clearer, because right now all he could think about was all the ways this could disappear. And that was the absolute last thing he wanted.

Her gaze met his again and softened. “Stop worrying about possibilities.”

“Paranoia has kept me alive,” he said quietly. “I’d like it to keep you alive, too.”

She flushed at whatever she saw, and she squeezed his arm again. “Perhaps, but there are others behind us too. You aren’t alone in this.”

That… was true. He kept forgetting, that he had other people to rely on too now. “I suppose, but I’ve spent too long here not to know the lengths Shido will go to to get his way. Forgive me for being concerned that you might become a central target of that.”

Noir smiled at him. “Forgiven. Don’t forget that I’m no more helpless than you.”

… right.

He sighed, lips curling up again, and lifted her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles. “I would never,  _ Noir _ .”

He wasn’t sure if it was the acknowledgement or the gesture that made the flush rise higher across her cheeks, but it made something in his chest lighter to see it. He straightened up as she withdrew her hand back with a flustered expression.

Evidently she hadn’t expected that.

A glance over had the happiness fading rapidly, however, as he saw Shido’s smug smile as he and Okumura talked over something. The rest of the group was watching them as though it was a particularly interesting play, and Goro had to quickly turn away from them and back to Haru to suppress the panic bubbling in his chest. It was fine, it would be fine.

They’d-

They’d figure something out.

“Are you-”

He was cut off by a call from across the room. “Excuse me, everyone!”

Oh no.

It fell quiet as they all turned to look at Ishii-san by the carts, the waitstaff lined up behind her. She smiled across the room, reveling at the undivided attention. “Thank you. Now then, I’ve been informed that the night is waning, and that perhaps it’s time to reveal the zenith of the event.” She waved a hand, and a cloth was pulled away to reveal the final cart full of crystal bottles. “The new line of top-shelf spirits that my company will be revealing in two months.” She launched into a detailed explanation of their prices and quality, before flashing another dangerous smile and saying, “And I must thank the great man for whomst we are all here today. He has been a proud sponsor and supporter of us all, and it is with greatest zeal that we reciprocate that honor. As proof of our thanks, and a taste of my value-” She winked at the laughter across the room, “-I propose a toast, to the great Masayoshi Shido-san!”

Goro forced his breathing to remain even, fighting down nausea. It was hardly the first time he’d sat through one of these speech and toast bouts, but it was the first in a while, and with everything that had happened recently and the changes he himself had experienced…

Not to mention, he remembered this from last time. The final rounds were numerous, and all of them high-proof.  _ This _ more than anything else was what had made him sick.

His face remained calm, as it always did, and Haru looked equally placid next to him as Shido stepped up next to Ishii-san and placed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand before turning to the rest of them.

“It is I who am honored, to receive such unwavering support from you all.”

Goro tuned out his speech, full of compliments and pretty lies as though he wouldn’t kill every person in this room if given the chance. He’d heard it before, he’d hear it again before this was over, and it was just as much a lie every time. He didn’t focus back until the waitstaff began handing out glasses, and he saw the director and Shido both glance at him as the waiter reached him, and he took a glass with a plastic smile.

Haru sent a nervous glance at Ishii-san, then hesitantly took a glass. Goro didn’t like it, but he approved of the motion. The last thing she would want was to offend.

“Don’t take more than one,” he murmured to her. “These are high-proof, and will take you out of commission quickly if you don’t have a high tolerance. Not to mention this is going to be a chain toast. Ishii-san won’t take offense if you stick to that one, and it will keep your head clear.”

She flashed him a small smile, but he could see the tight concern in her eyes. “And you?”

Goro glanced to the left as the director and Okumura picked their way over. “I am going to spend the next two days very sick,” he muttered grimly.

“Goro-”

“Don’t,” he warned her softly. “I survived last time, I’ll survive this time. But they’re not going to give me a choice, and I don’t want you trying to intervene.”

He could see that she wasn’t happy, but the director reached them before she could say anything. “Well, that’s quite the display,” he chuckled as he stepped up next to Goro and smiled at them. “I must admit, Ishii-san has really outdone herself this time.”

“She always does,” Goro agreed pleasantly.

“Indeed, I am very impressed.” Okumura said appreciatively.

The director beamed at him. “I see you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

“Okumura-san has been pleasant enough company,” Goro said mildly, and saw the pleased gleam in her father’s eyes. He truly only cared about her as a bargaining chip at this point, didn’t he?

The director nodded- more of a head bob given his own inebriated state, and his smile widened. “Good, good! It must be a nice change of pace to spend time with someone your own age- you’re always mingling with us old fogies!” He laughed, and Goro’s smile didn’t drop.

_ And who’s fault is that? _

“I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourself as well, Haru,” Okumura gave her a sharp look and small smile before turning back to the front. “Ah, it appears we’re about to begin.”

Sure enough, a moment later, Ishii-san raised her glass and began the toast. Goro tried to sip, but sure enough the director chuckled again and backed him into a corner yet again, and he saw the rage flash through Haru’s eyes. But she stayed quiet and seemed to shrink into herself, somehow making her presence seem smaller than it was behind Goro’s and she was overlooked as she barely sipped from her own glass of amber liquid- whatever it was. Rum, perhaps? It was sweet, and wasn’t whiskey, and he didn’t care much beyond that.

And, as usual, Shido offered the second toast, and then opened to floor to everyone else.

Toast after toast, drink after drink, and the world rapidly turned hazy as Goro tried to breathe past the stickiness coating his throat and mouth. His stomach twisted and writhed as his head spun. He hated it. He really, really hated this.

_ Enough, enough, enough, please just let it end already. _

After a few drinks, he wasn’t even aware of what was being pushed into his hands anymore. Sweet, sour, bitter, it all began to meld together and he lost all focus on anything except trying to stand still, upright, and breathing. It was loud and everything echoed past him as the other partiers talked and laughed and shouted for more.

_ No more. Please, no more. _

He couldn’t focus on anything except the glass in his hand, until that too slipped from his grip and he felt a split second of panic as he wavered on his feet trying to find it before it hit the floor- it would make a mess and draw attention and if his facade slipped Shido would-

There was a small steel grip on his right arm and a large solid one on his left shoulder and-

“Enough, kid.”

“I-” Words wouldn’t work, they tried to get caught in the stickiness of his mouth. “Shi- Shido- an’-”

“They don’t care. They’re way too far gone to notice, you’re done.”

He wavered trying to process that. They were… gone? No. He was- He was done. He didn’t have to manage anymore.

He could feel himself shaking, and just tried not to start crying. He couldn’t cry. Bad things- bad things happened when you cried. Just stay quiet and try not to draw attention and maybe they’d forget about you.

“I…”

The grip shifted, and a shadow crossed in front of him. He blinked blearily up to see Ryūken-san standing in front of him, scowl in place. “Enough, kid.”

But… oh. “The… glass. Dropped it. I need- to find it. It’ll make a mess and… Shido will be mad. I dropped… the mask. He’ll lose face and- and-” he was shaking, he needed- he needed to fix this before-

“Christ, I’m gonna kill that bastard myself if this shit keeps up,” Ryūken-san muttered viciously under his breath. “You didn’t drop it kid, I’ve got it. And it’s empty, so it’s fine.”

“Oh.” Goro whispered, wavering on his feet. It was… okay then. Shido wouldn’t notice. He wouldn’t care. Wait… “You- Y’can’t… do that. Kill him.”

Ryūken-san snorted, stepping forward to support Goro and patting one hand on his head. “Yeah, guess you’re right. ‘t’d be bad for business to kill of my primary contractor, huh?”

“Hmmm… maybe… s’not why though…”

“Oh?” Ryūken-san raised a brow with a small smirk. “Do tell.”

“‘Cause- ‘Cause he’s  _ mine _ .” Goro mumbled. “Can’t kill him. I’m gonna deal with him.” He felt the grip on his arm tighten, but didn’t look over to see who it was. He was pretty sure he knew? It was… her. Safe. She was. Safe. They were safe.

“That so. You’re doing one hell of a job then, killing him.”

“Not… gonna kill him. Can’t kill him.” He rested his forehead on Ryūken-san’s shoulder. “S’not… can’t.”

“Why not?”

Why? Because- “They’d… get upset. Don’t want to hurt them anymore. They’re more than I deserve, but they want me. No one ever wants me, but they do. So… So- don’t- want to make them upset again.” The grip on his arm tightened more and there was a hitch of breath next to him, but he wasn’t worried. These two… they were  _ safe. _

“That so…” Ryūken-san sounded thoughtful. “Well, knowing you, you got some master plan. Guess I can let you have it, save me the trouble. Just don’t get me caught up in it, yeah?”

Goro nodded against him. “Won’t. I’ll… I’ll warn you. Let you get out before his ship sinks. Owe you too much not to.”

Ryūken-san snorted incredulously. “Owe me? I’m the one who taught you to kill, remember?”

“Taught me to survive. He’d- He’d have- have killed me for being useless years ago if you hadn’t.” The lights flashed and world spun and Goro closed his eyes. “Kept an eye out. Like now. My Hierophant. I… owe you.” He owed him so, so much. “Dunno if I ever told you. Thanks.”

The man sighed and patted his head. “You shouldn’t be thanking me for it, kid, but you’re welcome anyway.” He paused. “Hierophant?”

“It’s a Tarot term,” a soft voice from next to them said. “Each card in the deck means something, and sometimes they can represent people in your life.”

“Huh. What’s it mean?”

“I don’t remember all the meanings,” she said apologetically. “But I know it means he looks up to you. One of my other friends is into Tarot, and his Hierophant is the coffee shop owner who pulled him out of a rough spot and took him in, and taught him a lot.”

“… that so. Worse things to be, I guess.” Ryūken-san was silent for a moment, and Goro felt him shifting. “Looks like they’re all totally out of it now. C’mon kid, lets get you home.”

“Um-!”

He paused. “What is it?”

“Actually, do you think you could take him to this address? I don’t think he should be alone after drinking that much, and we have friends there.”

Friends…? “Le- Leblanc?” he asked, trying to straighten. Ryūken-san steadied him with a raised brow.

Haru nodded quickly and Goro relaxed. 

“Makoto’s gonna kill me,” he mumbled. She and Sae had to be pissed.

“She’s not,” Haru assured him. “She’s angry, but not at you.”

Ryūken-san glanced between them, then sighed and shook his head. “Y’know, I don’t wanna know what the hell kinda counter-conspiracy you’ve cooked up. Just don’t get me involved in the fallout.” He looked back to Haru. “You got a way to get home?”

She hesitated and glanced at her father. Goro tried to follow her gaze, but everything was blurry and spinning and made his stomach hurt, to he focused back on her. “I… can wait to go home with father.”

Goro blinked, trying to understand that, because that sounded… wrong. “You- no. You’ll… be alone. Supposed to stay with you. Watch your back.”

Her eyes softened and she smiled at him. “I know, but you need to go. You know I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not the point!” Goro stared at her. “‘m not gonna  _ leave _ you.”

She covered her mouth and he stared in confusion and a sting of hurt as she stifled her laughter. What had he said that was so funny? She steadied her breathing and shook her head. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just- you’re so earnest right now. It’s cute. But father…” Her smiled faded, and he took back the hurt. She could laugh at him if it would make her smile.

Ryūken-san  _ sighed _ . “Dammit, I don’t need  _ two _ of ‘em,” he muttered. “Well I can speak from experience that your father ain’t gonna notice until tomorrow when he wakes up and is finally stone-cold sober. So if you got someone to call, I can take you with this one.” He jerked his head to Goro.

Haru’s eyes widened for a moment, and she nodded quickly. “Yes, of course, I’ll let the main housekeeper know that I’m with one of my friends. She’s familiar with them. Thank you so much.” She bowed to him, and he waved her off.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re all grateful. S’all fine, just c’mon.”

“The hallway to the west corridor is free of any loitering guests,” Ishii-san appeared from nowhere, smiling at them. “You can cut behind the gardens to reach the cars.”

Ryūken-san nodded respectfully at her, and Goro tried to straighten so he could thank her, but she laughed and reached out to pat his cheek. He blinked, confused at the fond motion.

She winked at Haru. “Stay smart, darling, and keep hold of this one.” And then she was gone again before they could respond.

“Oh. Alright,” Haru said with bemusement.

“She’s always like that,” Ryūken-san sighed. “Incredible woman, but I’d dare not cross her.”

“Oh?”

“She’s like you’n Makoto,” Goro hummed, swaying towards her. She slipped under his arm and pulled him towards the door, Ryūken-san’s hand on his other shoulder to keep him from falling as the lights spun around him. “Knows what to do ‘n how to get it… breaks anything in her way.”

Haru giggled against him. “I see.”

It was dark and hot outside, and he grimaced. He already felt sticky, now it was even  _ worse _ . His mouth and throat felt like he’d been eating straight sugar, and his head hurt. The cool car was a blessing, and he dropped his head back against the leather seat with a quiet groan of relief.

He felt something brush against him, Haru tugging against his clothes, followed by a  _ click _ that made him open his eyes and look down, fighting against the light-headedness. Ah, she’d fastened the seatbelt. That was nice of her. He probably should have gotten that.

“Thanks,” he murmured, and she smiled as she fastened her own.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, just this address?” Ryūken-san asked as he started the car.

“Yes, thank you so much.”

“Told ya’ it’s fine, you don’t gotta thank me.”

Goro closed his eyes and tried to breathe as the car began moving, making his stomach turn. A hand brushed his hair from his flushed face, and he leaned into the touch with a hum of relief. Haru paused, then began carding her fingers through his hair. He made a soft sound of contentment and leaned towards her.

Somewhere along the way, between her gentle ministrations and gentle humming and the soothing scent of springtime she seemed to carry everywhere, he fell asleep.

**.** 🂱 **.**

When he woke up, everything hurt. It was like needles were being driven into his head, and he made a strangled sound of pain when he made the mistake of opening his eyes and was blinded by sunlight.

He clamped them shut and tried to turn away, which was another mistake as his stomach rebelled and suddenly he was choking, and there were hands pulling him to the side as he threw up. He could barely focus around the feeling of his insides turning inside-out, but was distantly aware of a hand on his chest and back, supporting him, two more holding his hair back. He coughed and gagged, and tears fell from his eyes as it  _ hurt. _

There was no way to know how long he was like that, doubled over as his body was wracked with convulsions that felt like knives were being driven into his head and chest, it could have been a few minutes or a few hours. The hand on his back was rubbing soothing circles, and it… helped, in a very distant way. Voices murmured above him, but he couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Everything felt like static, and he pressed his cheek to the cool sheets as the convulsions passed and his stomach at least pretended to settle.

A cool hand pressed to his cheek gently, and he carefully squinted his eyes open to see Akira and Makoto hovering over him. The room was dimmer- the blinds had been drawn, and he could see Futaba sitting cross-legged at the desk with a laptop, watching him worriedly. He didn’t see anyone else in the attic though, but he didn’t want to risk glancing around and making himself sick again.

He swallowed down the bitter bile with a pained, disgusted grimace at the burn, but didn’t dare try to sit up yet. “What-” His voice was raspy, and he coughed, which made him squeeze his eyes shut and breathe carefully to try and keep from getting sick again.

Akira ran a soothing hand through his hair. “It’s around nine, Saturday. You’ve been asleep for around six hours.” He paused and Goro could mentally see his dissatisfied grimace. “We were hoping you’d sleep longer.”

“Here, slowly.”

He opened his eyes again to find Makoto holding a glass with a straw. He carefully levered himself up, Akira shifting to support him as his stomach twisted, and shakily took the glass. Thankfully she didn’t let go, or he probably would have dropped it. He swished the first mouthful of water in his mouth for a moment before spitting it in the bucket to get the taste out, then slowly sipped more to wash down the bile.

By the time he was done he was marginally more confident in his ability to speak, though the world was still light and hazy and painful in a way that confirmed that he had definitely not gotten the alcohol out of his system.

He wasn’t surprised. Last time it had been early in the second morning before he’d gotten past the worst of it, and had spent the whole second day dealing with the hangover. He’d probably spend most of today alternating between sleeping and throwing up and he made a face at the thought.

He  _ hated _ this.

“Think you can handle some more?” He focused on the glass Akira was holding out, arching a brow at what was definitely not water. “Ginger tea. It should help with the nausea, according to Boss. We’re hoping that you can sleep the worst of it off, and keeping you from throwing up should help with that.”

“’d be a nice difference,” Goro murmured. “Last time ‘m pretty sure I spent most of the day after going between sleeping an’ being sick. Won’t wear off ‘til like… three tomorrow morning. God I hate them so damn much. It’s always like this at those stupid parties. Not usually this bad though.” He took a sip from the straw and waited for his stomach to stop protesting before taking the next one.

Makoto rubbed his back. “Well, hopefully we can mitigate the worst of the sickness this time.”

“You aren’t dealing with it alone this time either,” Akira added as he held the glass steady. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Goro closed his eyes to hold back the tears abruptly springing to them at the reminder. “I- Right. Thanks.” There was a thick edge to his voice that they had to have noticed. It was corroborated by the way Akira slid his free arm around his back, and Makoto pressed down more firmly. They stayed that way for a few minutes while Goro finished the tea, and then coerced him into lying back down.

He fell back asleep with a hand carding through his hair and their murmurs over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not shown:
> 
> The next afternoon at Leblanc while Goro is fighting off the last stretch of the hangover, everyone else is gathered to go over the info they gained.
> 
> Haru, walking in, the last to arrive: So Father is breaking off my engagement to Sugimura with orders that I should seduce Goro to marry instead.
> 
> Goro, choking on his curry: whAT?!
> 
> Everyone else: WHAT?!
> 
> Cue the fake-dating-but-not-really-fake-because-I-can’t-resist-established-polythieves-time-travel plotline to screw over the conspiracy.


	23. Day 23: Exhaustion/Sleep Deprivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira has returned to his parents for the final year of high school because he doesn’t consider the legal fight against them to be worth it. It’s just a year, then he can go back home to Tokyo and start university with his friends, he can handle it. He thought, at least. But the events of the year previous won’t leave his mind, his nightmares.
> 
> The fact that his parents are worse than ever- still angry about his false record and even more furious about his newfound rebellion against their attempts at absolute authority- only makes it all so much worse.
> 
> One person can only take so much, and Akira’s guardian “angel” knows it is time to intervene, even if doing so will cause fear for those he cares about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another AU I've been writing off and on for around a year, I very much love protective!Personas, and I have a particular weak spot for both Arsène and Joker (as a semi-separate cognitive entity; not relevant here but another AU I've been toying around with exploring). Shiho is also wonderful and I love her. I have headcanons about Akira's parents and they are not good.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Chapter warnings: Controlling parents, Verbal abuse, References to/threats of physical punishments, Depressive thoughts, Nightmares, Flashbacks, Akira is backsliding rapidly, Morgana and Shiho are concerned, Arsène is pissed (borderline Satanael transformation levels pissed), All his Personas are Not Happy

It was just a year, Akira had assured his friends while laughing at their dramatics of how much they’d miss him, then he’d be back and they’d be starting- or continuing- university.

It was just a year, Akira had desperately reminded himself the whole way back to Inaba, then he’d graduate and be able to go home with his friends.

It was just a year, Akira had quietly whispered to Morgana after the argument with his parents the moment he got back, he could hold on that long.

The year in Tokyo had been the best of his life, and seemed to have flown by.

This year back in Inaba looked like it would be the worst of his life, and of course would drag by ever so slowly.

He hadn’t expected school to be any better than Shujin had, just different rumors and reactions. Akira had been dreading school, dreading returning to whispered rumors and dirty side-glances with no friends to drown it all out.

Which was why, when he walked into class to be reintroduced to the people he'd grown up with, he was stunned and delighted to see one Shiho Suzui sitting next to the only free seat in class. She sent him an equally startled and bright smile as he sat down, and the knot in his chest eased a bit.

It was nice to know that he wouldn't be alone.

He settled into the seat and blinked as a small folded crane landed on his desk. His mouth curled up in a grin against his will, and he sent Shiho a smile of his own.

At lunch, he followed her to the roof.

“Why here?”

“Same reason as before. I need to prove to myself that it’s okay now.”

They sat next to each other on the old rooftop pipes as they ate. Morgana was lounging next to him, basking in the sun.

He hummed, tilting his head back and breathing the spring-chilled air. “Does it help?”

“Not  _ help _ , exactly,” she admitted slowly. “But-” She stopped, thinking of how to continue. “It reminds me that it’s over. What happened happened, and nothing is going to change that. But what  _ did _ happen isn’t what’s happening now. It reminds me that no matter how awful it was, I can still move on. Does that make sense?”

“It does,” he assured her. “I did the same thing in Tokyo before I left, and I’m planning on doing it later today, too.”

She blinked, tilting her head. “Where at?”

“The street two blocks off main, just a ways from the bar. It’s where I was arrested the first time, and I just… want to go there now. After everything.”

Shiho nodded. “Would you like some company?”

“You don’t mind?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been trying to walk around in the afternoons. Partially to help my body finish healing right, partially to keep my head out of the past. If I just hide in my room, I’m afraid I might never leave.”

“I get that,” he nodded with a wince. “I had to force myself out of Leblanc and to Shibuya, and the government district, after the interrogation. It wasn’t… easy. It felt like I was walking around with a laser on my back, like someone would recognize me and…”

“-and you would get dragged back, and it would happen all over again,” she finished, wrapping her hands around her can of tea.

“Yeah,” he sighed. Akira hadn’t expected to form this connection with Shiho of all people, but maybe it was to be expected. They were in somewhat of a similar position, even if the specifics were different. He turned and smiled at her. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he mused as he walked back to his house later, but it hadn’t been  _ nothing _ . It was… just a street. Houses on both sides, a guard rail… he hadn’t felt anything. Not like he had when he’d met Shido again, not like he had when he’d returned to the station to turn himself in, or when he’d stopped by the Diet Building after everything in a twisted farewell to the one teammate and confidant he hadn’t been able to save.

It was just a street like any other.

But the memories there were very real, and returning home to his parents’ immediate criticisms about him being later than expected, snide comments that he’d better not be getting into  _ more trouble, honestly, haven’t you inconvenienced us enough? _ already had him in a bad mood, pulling at bad memories.

So he should have expected  _ that dream _ to come back. The streetlights, the woman, Shido, the police-

-the arrest, the interrogation, no,  _ no, stop it hurts- _

He woke up with a gasp, lunging to the opposite end of the bed in a half-asleep bid to escape the reaching hands and harsh fists.

He hadn’t even reached the assassination this time.

Akira sighed, running a shaky hand through his sweaty hair. Morgana stirred from his spot by the pillow, sitting up blearily.

“Akira?”

He shook his head at him. “Just a dream,” he sighed, moving back up the bed.

“Another nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

Morgana nudged his way into Akira’s arms, and Akira shuddered and curled around him until he fell back asleep against his chest.

Akira spent the next six hours scrolling through his phone, until his alarm rang and he had to get up for school. A quick application of foundation- left over from the interrogation’s aftermath- hid the shadows under his eyes.

It didn’t fool Shiho the way he had hoped, and she pointed out that her best friend was literal-model  _ Ann _ . He couldn’t really argue with that. She didn’t press, though, and he was grateful.

He didn’t press about the shadows under her eyes either, and he could see in her smile that she was grateful too.

They held the silent acknowledgement that yes, they were both traumatized, and no, they were not getting enough sleep, and moved on. They explored Inaba, tiny backwater town that it was, and complained about missing the city and their friends.

Within three days they were yanking each other to their feet and helping each other with exercises. By the end of the week, Shiho was calling him a moron and throwing sodas at his head while he teased her about being pathetically pining over her girlfriend in Tokyo while she dropped dramatically against his side and sprawled across him.

Being completely cut off from all his friends and left to his parents mercy hurt- not that he would tell  _ them _ that, it wasn’t worth the battle for only a  _ year _ , and Sae to far too busy dealing with the Conspiracy to waste time on a custody case of someone who would be graduating in less than a year anyway. Once he started university, his parents would stop caring because him disappearing would be somewhat expected, and wouldn’t ruin their reputation further. They could roll their eyes and make a scathing remark about him being lured away by the glamours of the city colleges, and they would get sympathetics murmurs before it was dropped for more interesting gossip. But it was nice to have something,  _ anything, _ keeping him stable. Shiho and Morgana and the calls to the friends he’d left behind were all that kept him sane.

He was still top of the school, still studying hard, still subject to all the whispers and rumors around him, but he hadn’t tried to rejoin the gymnastics team. He’d considered it- if only for the brief taste of the freedom he’d felt as Joker- but had taken one glance at his former teammates and known there was no chance. He understood how Ryuji felt, at least.

Then Shiho dragged him to the woods just outside of town and rounded on him. “I saw that.”

“Saw what?” he asked halfheartedly, setting his bag on the ground so Morgana could leap out.

She sent him a scowl. “The look you were giving them. That was the gymnastics team, right?”

He glanced away. “Well- yeah.”

“Annnddd…?”

“There’s no point asking to rejoin; I already know the answer.”

“Didn’t think you were the type to give up.”

“I’m not the type to waste my time. Even if I did rejoin, it wouldn’t be fun anymore.” Not with his ruined reputation, and his teammates reactions before. “If it’s not fun, what’s the point?” There was no freedom there- just another shackle chaining him down.

Shiho conceded his point. “Okay, that’s fair. But I’m curious. So!” She waved her arms with a flourish at the tall trees with low hanging branches. “Show me what you’ve got,  _ Joker.” _

It took him a moment to process that, slowly registering, then he lit up. “Sure, why not?”

Morgana groaned, but didn’t try to stop him as he leapt up into the nearest tree.

It was the most fun he’d had since coming back, flying through the air twisting himself around to reach the next limb that Shiho pointed out, and as the afternoon waned he found himself grinning. Joker hadn’t felt this close to reality in months, even if there were limitations compared to the Metaverse.

Akira tasted that freedom he’d been longing for, and the smile Shiho gave him as he hugged her tightly with thanks said she understood.

He found himself staying out with her later and later as the days passed, desperate to avoid his parents for just a couple more hours. They did… nothing, really, as there wasn’t much to do. Homework, studying for entrance exams in a few months, exercises to help her work back up to her former level and keep him in shape, dumb meme recreations to make their friends threaten to disown them- Ann had “broken up” with them no less then four times over it, much to their glee, even as Ryuji and Futaba shamelessly encouraged them- staying up until midnight on a stormy night waiting for the infamous Midnight Channel- which didn’t appear and Shiho called hax- and generally just trying to survive the suffocating emptiness of Inaba.

His parents got worse, not that he was surprised, and more often than not he went to bed fighting back either tears or emptiness. Everything from grades- he didn’t get a  _ perfect score _ on every test, god forbid- to his attitude- he was clinging to the vestiges of Joker’s rebellion with increasingly desperate determination- to his constant attachment to his phone- as though he didn’t spend those multi-hour group calls  _ studying _ , which he’d  _ told them _ \- to his friends- they’d made remarks about the fact that he was hanging around a girl all the time, but he ignored those because they didn’t deserve the explanation of Shiho- and he gritted his teeth an bore it, and deflected the others’ concerns.

Shiho and Morgana knew, but Akira had explained his reasoning.

“You’re a dumbass,” Shiho informed him, sprawled across his back while she plugged numbers into her phone calculator. “But I get it. Can’t say anything, that’s basically what I did with Kamoshida. Just…” she paused, and turned to pat his head. “… don’t let it get to the point I did, okay?”

He leaned his head into the contact, flat on his stomach on the riverbank going over legal documents to study for entrance exams into Tokyo University’s Law track. “I won’t. I promise. I haven’t even considered anything like that since before awaking my Persona, so if I have any stray thoughts I’ll recognize the warning signs.”

“Good. Let me know if you start feeling really bad, I’ll kick your ass back into happyville.”

“Noted,” he snorted, returning to his work. “Shiho?”

“Yeah?”

“… Thanks.”

“Back at you.”

Spring faded to summer, and suddenly it was break. Akira hated it. Suddenly they had even  _ more _ time with nothing to do. Shiho suggested jobs, and shrugged at the look he gave her.

“Worth a shot?”

He sighed and conceded the point. He  _ was _ acquitted, after all. Maybe someone would take pity on him.

Or maybe not, as he was quickly informed at all the local stores that they didn’t have space for a new hire. Which he  _ knew _ was a lie at some of them, but wasn’t willing to fight it.

They gave up about halfway through the distract, Akira’s mood getting worse with every obvious lie, and Shiho pulled him back to the other side of town. They settled in the Junes food court with drinks and greasy comfort food, and Shiho looped her ankle apologetically around his.

“There’s always Junes?”

“Nope.”

“What, aren’t willing to do corporate retail?” she mocked him gently, and he made a face at her.

“Not willing to smile in the face of every person in town all week every week.”

A grimace flickered across her expression. “There is that. Okay, so jobs are out. We cannot study for twelve hours every day all summer, you parents would murder you and dump you body in the river if you try to leave, and everyone else can’t really come here all summer. What the hell are we gonna do  _ all summer _ ?”

“Fish?”

“Or lay on the riverbank drowning in existential thoughts.”

“Same thing.”

“You guys are just sad,” Morgana sighed, popping out of Akira’s bag to steal a fry.

At Shiho’s questioning look, Akira translated. “Morgana called us pathetic losers.”

“I did not!”

“Well, he’s right.”

Akira laughed, mood lightening. “We’ll think of something. If nothing else, we have our phones.”

“Ah yes,” Shiho nodded in agreement. “We crash at my house and binge the entirety of Featherman since the eighties all summer.”

They both paused, staring at each other.

“Oh.”

A grin slowly crossed Akira’s face. “We are going to  _ own _ Futaba’s ass next time we play Featherman Trivia.”

A competitive light flickered in her eyes. “Hell yeah we are.”

(They did not binge Featherman all summer, both getting sick of it and having to take week-long breaks, but they got into the 2000s era at least. Shiho’s parents were torn between amused and concerned, but were acknowledging and sympathetic once Shiho explained.

Akira really liked her parents. He’d been concerned until Shiho explained how far she’d gone to hide what had been going on from them, and that they’d both had stressful jobs until she’d jumped, and they’d both dropped literally everything to focus on her. And now they were very supportive of both of them, and it was a breath of fresh air to Akira.)

Summer passed more quickly than he’d expected, but as the season faded to fall, and the anniversaries of October and November and December loomed, Akira found himself sliding into a darker mindset. His parents’ words cut deeper, and his friends’ support and reassurances stopped helping.

He hid it, though, as he always had. He was a good enough liar, his expression closed enough normally, that even Shiho and Morgana only noticed that he was feeling worse- not how much worse.

It wasn’t obvious enough that Morgana stopped wandering out at night a lot of the time, at least, staving off his own stir-crazy impulses. The cool air the cracked window let in helped stabilize him, at least.

Well, when it wasn’t making his reaction to waking up from nightmares worse. It had been cold, in the interrogation room and the engine room and on that Shibuya sidewalk. Waking up cold made it harder to shake off the nightmares.

But he didn’t say anything, just added another blanket to his bed, because he wouldn’t deprive Morgana of his own coping mechanisms to being trapped here, surrounded by the negativity. Morgana had helped him too much- was still helping him too much- to do that.

It was fine.

Until… until it wasn’t.

Until he had a minor panic attack- not enough to be overtly noticeable, just enough to make him shake and have to concentrate harder to avoid disassociating, thankfully- during test at the sound of a siren a few streets from the school, and got a B rather than an A. He knew as soon as he saw it that this was going to be very, very unpleasant.

He didn’t let Morgana see the grade, and convinced him to go hang out with the Shrine Fox and do whatever trouble those two got up to together.

He didn’t want him to have to see this.

Bracing himself the moment he got home, the resulting explosion was exactly as bad as he’d expected.

(He wasn’t sure what compelled him- perhaps the whisper of Queen’s tactical advice, or the furious growl of Sae’s ruthless position in the courtroom, or maybe the resolute rage welling deep within his heart that felt so distant now- but he held his phone behind his leg and turned the video on.)

Accusations that he wasn’t taking this seriously, that this was unacceptable, that he was spending so much time playing with “that girl” and “those friends” and “that cat” that he was failing in his responsibilities, and was likely contributing to his bad attitude. It slid effortlessly into complaints that he wasn’t grateful enough that they’d taken care of him despite the inconveniences that came with it, especially the past year. That he’d cost them a fortune, and created a stain on their reputation around town, and-

And then his mother snapped that he’d spent so much time on his phone that she’d gotten comments from others around town, and obviously if it was so distracting that it was affecting his grades he needed a lesson and-

His father stepped forward, demanding his phone. For the first time since the argument started- no, since he returned home- Akira flat out refused. He tried to cite that he needed access online to study, that the only thing he did with his friends was study, he wasn’t slipping in his responsibilities, it was  _ one test it wouldn’t happen again- _

_ (-he couldn’t lose this, he couldn’t lose his tie to them he would actually break-) _

But they were resolute, unmoved, and he could feel his breath quickening because he couldn’t make it these last few months- couldn’t make it through October- could not deal with the memories of November, of December- on his own. He  _ needed _ them, and it wasn’t like he could explain to his parents, at best they would accuse him of lying. He stepped back and shook his head and refused.

His father’s eyes darkened and he took a threatening step forward, his body projecting the threat that he would  _ make _ him if he didn’t comply, and his parents had never really been physical he could count the times across his life he’d been slapped or spanked on one hand, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened and-

_ -the man scowled down at him, demanding he give the information up- _

_ -he refused refused refused and the officers stepped forward and- _

_ -it hurt- it hurt- it hurt please stop just make it stop- _

_ -he couldn’t and wouldn’t give them anything but every blow hurt more- _

There was nothing at stake beyond his own comfort here. No one else would be hurt and- and-

He couldn’t. Not again. It was different-  _ it should feel different but the fear was still there- _

So he swallowed and dropped his gaze and hit the power button from behind his leg- the video was still there, but he didn’t know what good it would do- and handed him the phone.

“If you hadn’t been so difficult about it it wouldn’t have come to this,” his father said scathingly. “We’ll see if you can earn this back.”

“Doubtful,” his mother sniffed. “Focus on your schoolwork and nothing else, and  _ maybe _ I’ll consider it. That goes for that  _ girl _ too. You spend too much time with her, it can’t be helping you focus.”  _ No. No, no, no- _ “Stop spending time with her after school and focus on what’s important.”

Akira wanted to cry. They were really trying to cut off any support he had.

She made a noise of disgust. “Honestly, making that blank face… it’s like you don’t even care. Go to your room. I expect you to be better starting tomorrow.”

He didn’t know if numb was quite the right word for it, as he blankly climbed the stairs and shut the door to his room- locking it behind him- but… everything felt distant as he stumbled to his bed and collapsed on it.

Curling up, he buried his face in his pillow, muffling his sobs to silence. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d finally broken him down.

There was no way to know how long he laid there. The tears stopped, but just left him empty as he stared at the sheets beneath where Morgana usually lay. The room was shadowed and grey, cold, but he didn’t care. Maybe he’d freeze to death and wouldn’t have to do this anymore.

Eventually the sun began to fade, and his consciousness followed.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Akira sat bolt upright, unsure what woke him. There had been no nightmares for once, just dreamless black, so it wasn’t that. He felt cold all the way through, like a fire inside him had gone out and left only the chill. But he didn’t think that had been what woke him up.

Then he felt it. A strange curl in his chest, a compulsion almost, the same feeling he’d had when he turned on the camera earlier.

He slowly pushed himself off the bed and followed the feeling, unlocking his door. He faltered for a moment before opening it, anxiety at the earlier fight shortening his breath. He didn’t want to see them again.

But it was late, almost midnight, so they’d be in bed by now.

Swallowing, Akira silently opened the door and slipped into the hall. He trembled as he crept down the stairs, nausea swirling in his stomach at the thought of facing his parents again, at being caught out. He didn’t even know what he was  _ doing _ , only that he had to follow through.

So despite his fear, he reached the lower floor and followed the compulsion to the living room.

He stopped and looked around at the empty room. There was nothing but the air of anticipation awaiting him. Of  _ what, _ he didn’t know. But  _ something _ was about to happen as he turned and scanned the room.

Then the hand on the clock hit twelve, and it happened. From behind him the sound of static flared to life, accompanied by the familiar feeling of distorted space, and he spun around with wide eyes.

The TV screen glowed gold, static covering any images that might have appeared. He slowly stepped forward, part of him disbelieving but part of him… unsurprised. Everyone knew about the Midnight Channel, and Morgana had mentioned the other groups in passing, so he wasn’t surprised at the sensation so similar to the Metaverse. But why now, why this feeling-

He felt a presence just behind him, sharp and powerful, and as his lips parted to gasp, a gloved hand was suddenly covering it to prevent any sound from escaping. He felt a brief moment of alarm before the scent registered and the person spoke directly in his ear, his free arm settling around Akira’s waist. “Calm down.”

Leather, maintenance oil, and gunpowder. A deep, firm voice he’d never heard from the outside before.

An achingly familiar scent that he hadn’t smelled in  _ months _ , a tone he hadn’t used in months, but had missed so sorely- and a muffled sob escaped him as he relaxed and leaned back against the warm body behind him.

The hard cut of lithe muscle beneath leather supported him easily as- Joker? Arsène? Satanael?- tightened his arm and dropped his hand from Akira’s mouth to wrap around his chest. Akira closed his eyes and allowed his head to drop back on his other self’s shoulder, shaking with relief at the warmth of the hug as the other pressed his face to Akira’s shoulder reassuringly.

But it only lasted a few moments, and then he was stepping away. Releasing Akira and allowing the cold air to replace his warmth, and Akira tried to turn after him desperately. But there was a gloved hand brushing his shoulder as the other stepped past him and walked to the TV.

When he turned back to face Akira, he finally saw that his eyes were as gold as the TV screen behind the familiar mask.

His breath pushed past his lips. “Arsène,” he whispered quietly, broken edge to his voice.

Arsène smiled back, sly and amused, but Akira could see the keen edge of hurt in his eyes. “And Joker, and Satanael. I am thou, thou art I. I am the truth of your soul.”

Akira’s mind flashed back to Morgana’s description of what others had faced. “The Shadow, the true self.”

“As much as the Persona is.” He flicked a glance to the clock on the wall, “Ten seconds,” and held out his hand to Akira. It should have taken longer for Akira to understand, perhaps, but he somehow understood exactly what that meant.

_ Ten seconds until 12:01. _

_ Ten seconds until his Shadow and the offer were gone. _

_ Ten seconds to choose. _

“Five seconds,” Arsène said quietly, but Akira was already moving, almost before he could register it.

He threw himself forward, bypassing his Shadow’s hand entirely to fling himself against his chest and clutch at his jacket. Arsène curled his arms around him easily and followed the momentum, allowing them both to fall backwards into the TV.

Akira felt the moment they entered, and the familiar twist of entering a distortion had never felt so comforting, so welcome. Arsène was warm against him, and for the first time since his Thieves had left, he felt safe.

Then there was another twist in his chest, a thrumming though his entire being, and it felt like entering a Palace, except that he could almost feel the essence of its entirety-

oh.

_ oh. _

Akira squeezed his eyes more tightly shut and pressed his face to Arsène’s shoulder with a quiet sob, and Arsène ran a soothing hand through his hair before twisting around and shifting his grip so that he was carrying Akira.

Maybe he should have felt embarrassed to be carried like a child, but Akira was too distraught to care as he wrapped his arms around his other self’s neck and curled against him as they landed lightly. He felt another gentle touch to the side of his head- the barest hint of a whisper of Morgana’s presence, wrapped up in the familiarity of his own soul- and heard the low murmur, “Allow me to gift you peaceful dreams.”

Even as the familiar sensation of a Dormina pulled him into unconsciousness, Akira didn’t feel alarmed.

He just felt safe.

**.**

**.**

**.**

He awoke to the sensation of lying on something soft, something warm wrapped around him. There were quiet voices murmuring above him, and a gentle hand carding through his hair. If he focused, he could sense the body heat of someone else- someone small- sitting directly in front of his torso, not quite touching him. He kept his breathing steady and listened.

“-sure they’ll come?” A deep, growling voice was asking.

“I am.” That was Arsène. Or- his Shadow, rather, however separate they may be.

“How will they know, though?” A woman’s voice, mildly concerned.

Arsène shrugged, the movement jostling his hand in Akira’s curls. “I left Morgana a note about the phone, and they’ll at least report he’s missing. That will alert the ones who have been keeping watch, and we know that Satonaka, Shirogane, and Narukami are with enforcement. They’ll do some digging, and realize fairly quickly what happened. Morgana will use them to alert the Thieves, and they’ll come running.”

“A reasonable plan,” another deep voice rumbled. “However, will they come soon enough?”

“Do not pretend ominousness, Odin,” another woman’s voice whipped out sharply. “We’ll not harm him, you know that well.”

“Nay, but we’ve no way to know how long-term exposure will affect him either. You’ve not overlooked that, Cybele?”

“Of course we haven’t.” The earlier woman stepped in gently. “I rather doubt Arsène will allow that to be an issue…?”

“I’ll step in if need be, and alert them myself.” Arsène said calmly, thumb stroking Akira’s temple. “If they haven’t made enough progress towards drawing the necessary parties together within three days, I’ll send out a proper calling card. I’d simply rather avoid the strenuity of leaving this world’s boundary again, if possible. It was difficult enough previously, and that was with an anchor and a weak point.”

“You are not the only one who can go.” Another woman cut in, raspy voice dipping low between sensuality and threat. “We’ve anchors as well, and a more… direct… invitation may be preferable.”

“Don’t be hasty, Harlot.” A smooth, slightly echoey voice countered. “We are still manifestations of the soul. Harm unto us is harm unto him, and what we all seek is to avoid further harm unto all.”

“Don’t act so arrogant, Ongyo-Ki!” she snapped back. “I am well aware, I do not need  _ your _ input!”

Akira found his lips quirking up as the group dissolved into bickering. It was familiar, and yet so different from the arguments of those whose bonds they were derived from. But it was a comfort all the same.

A long sigh came from the small figure in front of him and she leaned back against him. It sent a taste of  _ lightninghealingAnn _ through him for a moment, and he peeked an eye open to find Pixie watching them all with an exasperated look. He was a bit surprised to find her here, but perhaps he shouldn’t be. After all, she had been his second Persona, the first he’d accepted from outside, and the one whom had been fused with Arsène. She was the closest to him aside from Arsène, and she’d always held close concern for him.

She flashed him a smile, and neither she nor Arsène appeared surprised, so they must have noticed him wake up.

“So,” he murmured tiredly, “what do I need to do?”

The arguing Shadows fell silent and turned to regard him with incredulous glances. Arsène and Pixie exchanged a glance that was equal parts fond and exasperated.

All the ultimate Personas he’d gained from his teammates were here, though as Shadows- maybe? They weren’t hostile, so he didn’t really understand- and they’d gone from arguing to presenting something of a united force in the beat of a moment. Cybele sighed and rolled her eyes up, and it was such a  _ Makoto _ move he couldn’t entirely suppress his chuckle. She sent him an annoyed look, but didn’t seem entirely displeased.

_ “You,” _ Pixie poked his side, “need to sleep and rest and  _ not worry about stuff.” _

He blinked. “But-”

“Nope!” Ishtar cut in, gentle voice lilting up. “This place is safe for you. We are the only ones who can reach it aside from those we wish to come. This is a place for you to rest and recover that which you have lost.”

“Not precisely how I would have phrased it, but a suitable enough explanation,” Odin mused, stroking his beard.

Futsunushi crossed his arms, settled across his crossed swords. “You have fought for your place long. Now, comes the rest in the aftermath of such battle.”

“Indeed. You have fought hard to hold onto that which they have wished to tear from you. There is no shame in defeat after your most arduous struggle.” Chi-You nodded in agreement. “Battles may be lost, only to win the war effortlessly. Take your time to recuperate.”

Metatron spoke for the first time, voice quiet but commanding attention, and Akira wasn’t sure if he was surprised to see  _ him _ here or not. “To rush forward is to allow weakness. Weakness in mind is equal to weakness in body. Do not deprive yourself of the opportunity to heal now as you healed from your physical injuries.”

Akira had not expected to get wise advise from the manifestations of his soul’s bonds with his friends today, but his life really was just that strange now. “I…”

Arsène brushed his thumb along Akira’s cheek. “Do you trust us?”

“Yes, of course.” How could he not?

His Shadow smiled at him fondly, and it was somewhat strange to see that expression on his own face. “Then leave this to us,  _ mon cher autre moitié _ . Allow us to handle this, and regain your strength. You’ve fought enough.”

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he nodded as he let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he whispered, and it was as terrifying as it was freeing to willingly cede that control. Pixie leaned against his arm reassuringly.

Arsène turned back to the others. “We’ve done all we can on that side, for now. Let us focus our efforts on this side. Assist the other culminations of the Tarot to keep all the others in line, prepare for the arrival of the Thieves, and  _ ensure nothing else gets in. _ We do not need stray Shadows encroaching upon this place- there is no way to know the damage they may do with him here.”

Mother Harlot and Cybele bared their teeth. “We’d not allow them here anyway,” Mother Harlot hissed.

“Such filth shall not spread its defilement here,” Cybele agreed viciously. “I share only with those we welcome- no others.”

Arsène inclined his head. “I leave that to you then.”

They exchanged a look and vanished.

“I shall begin as well, then. I wish you peaceful rest.” Odin dipped his head, and disappeared as well.

One by one they others vanished as well with their own acknowledgements, until it was just the three of them left. Arsène sighed, leaning back.

“Keeping them all in line is certainly going to be an interesting task…”

“Don’t you do that anyway?” Akira asked, nudging his hand with his head in silent request.

Arsène acquiesced with a teasing glint in his golden eyes- which still caught Akira off guard every time he saw them. “In a sense, though not like this. This is a more physical space, and we’ve an actual goal to accomplish. As such, they’ll need to be organized.”

“Normally we just sort of float in your heart, and we’re usually drawn to others we naturally click with,” Pixie explained, flipping herself over him so she was sitting behind him, draping herself across him. “Arsène keeps everyone from picking fights- usually by threatening them- but he only really has to keep the ones you’re currently keeping at the forefront from getting in trouble. Since they’re already there, though, you can do that yourself. So he’s usually more of a distant mediator.” She beamed up at the other Shadow. “So this is going to be different.”

Arsène sighed at her, scratching Akira’s head lightly. He arched into it. “I’ll manage. If nothing else, I’ll remind them that you could actually die if they don’t behave. That usually curbs them, even if nothing else does.”

Akira blinked at him, pushing away the encroaching haziness. “Really?”

“Well  _ yeah,” _ Pixie huffed, squeezing his arm. “We art thou, but we art also other. Your soul gave us a home and a more central identity rather than a miscellaneous collection of stray human traits. Besides which, we are tied to those you care about as well. We love you are much as they do- and we love them as much as you do. So we want to protect you- for your sake and theirs.”

He’d spent plenty of time thinking about his wildcard status, but he’d never had the explanation of it laid out so plainly. He found himself letting out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut against more tears. “I see.”

They both pressed against him, grounding him against the overwhelming tide of emotions.

“Thank you,” he whispered, after the worst of it had passed.

“No need,  _ mon cœur,” _ Arsène said softly. “We are ever by your side, through hellfire and blessed water.”

“I don’t… think that’s how that saying goes.” Akira let out a watery laugh.

“Nay, I altered it.” Arsène admitted. “But it is fitting, is it not?”

“True.”

The stayed there for several minutes, and Akira basked in their presence even as he drifted closer to sleep.

“Will you stay?” he asked drowsily.

“I will remain by your side no matter what,” Arsène murmured back. “And physically, I will remain here until you are well and truly asleep. And even after, you need only call me back and I will return.”

“And I’m staying right here until this is all fixed,” Pixie added, shifting to prop her chin on her crossed arms on his shoulder. “I’m gonna be keeping an eye on you while Arsène is running around keeping everyone from destroying everything.”

“She’ll keep you safe.” The smile he sent her made warmth bloom in Akira’s chest- though whether they were his emotions or theirs, he wasn’t sure, and didn’t really care. He was happy. That was really all that mattered at the moment.

He peeked up at Arsène through dipping eyelids. “You’ll… handle things?”

“I will. I promise,” Arsène knelt down next to the couch and cupped Akira’s chin, making eye contact. “I will take care of the situation. Just leave it all to me and get some rest, alright?”

Akira allowed his eyes to fall closed, reaching up to touch the familiar, comforting leather glove. “Okay. Thank you, Arsène.”

His sigh of exasperation and Pixie’s light laugh were the last things Akira heard before he slipped back into sleep, and it filled him with warmth as a smile crossed his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love the many, many Personas and all the potential they hold. I’m sad they don’t get more exploration and attention. Also, Arsène-Pixie friendship is my absolute favorite thing. Just this giant demon glowing with fire, and then this tiny cheerful girl zipping around him and hiding under his wings when she gets scared. Also, Ann was the first party member you meet, Pixie is the first Persona you recruit. Coincidence? Maybe, but it gave me confidant headcanons.
> 
> I would love to write more French, bc I hc that Persona users pick up pieces of their Persona’s languages, and Arsène absolutely speaks French to Akira (and Akira speaks it back a bit as he learns it). Sadly, I do not know French (yet!) and I don’t want to embarrass myself writing a language I don’t know. And as someone currently taking Japanese, I can attest to exactly how awful Google Translate is.
> 
> Also, I’ve realized I’m an action-focused writer. Shocking realization, I know. I like to be in the thick of the action. I want to write about what major thing is happening, and I want to write about the aftermath. Writing the build-up is so hard. I get impatient.
> 
> On the flip side of that, I love Shiho and writing her is so much fun. She’s a snarky asshole like Akira. They’re terrors together, and their friends are horrified.  
> Akira parents are going to be shredded. By both his friends, and by the Shadow Ops. Because the Shadow Ops has been trying to hang back, give the Thieves some breathing room to get reacclimated to normal life and keeping their distance overall. Just checking on them occasionally. And then this happens, and they very much regret that. Chie and Kanji are furious with themselves, because they were right there and never realized how bad it was. (Morgana and Futaba do indeed get Akira’s phone unlocked and everyone sees the video and they. Are. Furious.)
> 
> Yu, Naoto, Mitsuru, Boss, and Sae are already three quarters of the way through lawsuit/emancipation paperwork by the time the Thieves even reach the Palace, because age of majority in Japan is 20 and parents technically maintain full legal responsibility until then. So this is necessary to cut Akira’s parents off entirely.
> 
> The Personas aren’t just going to hand him over, even if they’re trying to help, though. They have a full-scale “obstacle course” planned for the Thieves to jump through in oder to get him back- just to prove that they are definitely serious about this. They get to deal with his worst memories and fears first, and Arsène infiltrates the group by pretending to be a Persona-less Akira. And then he guides them where he wants them. It’s hard on everyone, because oh god Akira why didn’t you say anything?
> 
> Everything’s okay in the end, though. Akira gets saved, everyone is happy, and Shiho gets to punch Arsène in the face for scaring the shit out of her (she also awakens a Persona along the way but shhh).


	24. Day 24 - Sensory Deprivation/Mutism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my Protag Trio NG+ AU! Because I just really love this AU, and this is one of the plot points I’ve been most excited about eventually reaching. I also want to get a bit more thoroughly in Re:P5 era Akiren’s headspace, and touch on Goro’s as he realizes exactly who Ren is. In general, at least, because this is still a couple of years before he meets Akira and he gets the full realization. This is around a year after Ren and Yu have taken him in, four years before P5 canon starts.
> 
> Song inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1ghJuTnD_U&list=RDMMUy1PNFrtSZE&index=3
> 
> I may or may not have listened to it on repeat while writing this, mentally imagining a duet between Ren and Yu. Because it fits… really, really well.
> 
> Chapter Warnings: PTSD, Flashback, Panic attack, Shock, Grief, Guilt, Self-blame, Survivor’s guilt, Mentions/memories of character death before time travel, disassociation, Akiren loses their voice when they get lost in their head, Goro is a sweetheart, Yu is a good person/boyfriend/family member, Ren is trying so hard, They're all trying so hard, Goro is too smart for his own good
> 
> (Mind the switching pronouns, because of the difference in mindset between Akira and Ren and past vs present, and just the general _fun_ of genderfuckery that comes with being genderfluid. Not really touched upon, mostly implied, but there if you have dysphoria issues and are bothered by it. Also, there’s no actual misgendering in this because Ren uses “she” as a generality, and will specifically tell the others if they need to switch over. So Goro and Yu using “she” for Akiren while talking about her is fine. *Sigh* The problem with writing a snippet, because there’s a lot of background explanations missing.)

Ren tried. She tried so damn hard to keep herself grounded.

It had been easier, even with the grief so fresh, in Iwatodai. She’d never gone there as Akira, so everything had been new. New place, new people, new memories. It had been easier to distract herself as she had forged a new path.

(Adopted a new mask, taken on a new “persona” in the form of an openly social and mischievous girl who liked to tease, rather than a quiet boy who kept to himself, and had half the school falling over themselves for her, even as she had flirted endlessly with her icy stoic best friend. Not that finally starting to date “Yuki-chan” at the end of second year had stopped them, but at least it made her less mean when she laughed at their attempts.)

But here, back in Tokyo, surrounded by so many familiar things, with an achingly familiar yet startlingly different face  _ living with her- _

Ren spent more effort than she would like to admit avoiding the backslide into a bad headspace, ignoring the ghosts she was constantly walking amongst. Yu helped, and so did Minato and Ryoji when they were here, but…

But more than once she’d looked up to see a young boy with brown hair and red eyes watching her with a thoughtful expression, as though trying to piece together a puzzle, and suddenly Akira was back in Leblanc those hazy summer days, watching the detective try to puzzle him out.

It always took a second to breathe, to bite back the immediate “Something I can help you with, detective?”, and instead pull Ren back and flash Goro a smile and ask if she had something on her face.

He always flinched, startled and worried about being caught, and the illusion disappeared. Because Akechi had always just flashed a smile back with a borderline flirty tease that he was simply trying to understand his viewpoint. Goro was so young- not yet a detective, not yet a killer, not yet the brazen liar Akechi had been.

And if Ren had her way,  _ and she would fate be damned, _ he never would become those things. If he wanted, she’d talk to Naoto about the whole detective thing (or Yu, if he decided to commit after all even with his younger self with the same plan- if they decided to tell his parents after all, the two could easily pass for twins. If everything he’d said was true, they’d probably shrug with mild interest and sign off on everything before returning back to their own lives.

Ren didn’t like Yu’s parents and more than she’d liked her own. They were just opposite extremes on the same scale.)

But he would get to earn it purely on merit rather than falsehood. And he would never become Shido’s assassin as he had last time- she’d felt through Robin Hood exactly how much pain he’d gone through, the Persona the boy’s final gift to Akira when he’d fallen- no matter if she had to explain the whole truth to him to keep him from making the same mistakes.

_ (“Please don’t… forget me. I know it’s selfish, and I don’t deserve even that much, but…” Akechi’s golden eyes cut to the side, staring at the floor of the Velvet Room. _

_ “I won’t.” The promise came easily as Akira stepped forward to touch his arm. “You know, even after everything… I still considered you a friend.” _

_ “You… really are a fool.” _

_ “Aren’t we both?” Akira’s lips quirked, and Akechi scoffed. _

_ “As arch as ever, Joker.” _

_ “I try.” _

_ “Thank you, though.” _

_ “I haven’t kept my promise yet.” _

_ And Akechi smiled at him, expression completely genuine for once. “You will. I have full faith in that.” _

_ And there were tears in both their eyes as Akechi squeezed his hand, then stepped back. _

_ “Goodbye. I leave it to you, Joker.” And he closed his eyes, and faded away for the final time to be replaced by an altered Robin Hood. _

_ “Goodbye, Akechi,” Akira whispered, reaching out to accept the mask. “I’ll end things.” He allowed himself a moment to mourn the loss. Then Ren shook her head and wiped her eyes, straightening resolutely. The battle with Nyx was in five days, and she couldn’t afford to falter from past memories.) _

She never let the flinch rest, always assuring Goro it was fine. It was a constant effort, to relax his guards and pull him out of his wary walls, but she could see the fragile hope slowly blooming as the months passed, and she and Yu were nothing but kind to him.

He was so different than Akechi in many ways, yet so similar in others, and she could see how one became the other. But Goro was raw and genuine in ways Akechi hadn’t been, even if he was already a decent liar and far, far too similar to she and Yu’s tendency to people-please in order to be kept around. She understood, knew why, but it was like a knife to her chest whenever she saw it and  _ knew _ that he was faking. Was scared, that he’d be discarded again if he didn’t meet their expectations.

So she tried to covertly convey that he didn’t  _ have _ to, that he was there to stay, because she knew addressing it directly would just upset him. So she pulled at him, finding what he liked and disliked to startle genuine reactions from him, and assuring him that it was okay if he disagreed with them.

(The split second look of sheer disgust on his face the first time he’d tried asparagus that Yu made nearly made her keel over laughing. Yu didn’t mind it, and she liked it because she didn’t mind bitter things, but to someone with a sweet tooth like Goro… it wasn’t very good. He’d been immediately mortified, but Yu had waved it off with the assurance that plenty of people didn’t like it, it was okay. Ren had grinned and said if he thought that was bad, wait ‘til he tried black coffee.)

(Akechi had never gotten his coffee black, and the disgusted cringe Goro gave when he tried hers told her why. She’d changed it to the way Akechi had always liked it- order coming easy, even after two and a half years- and watched the disgust change to wonder with no small amount of pride.)

Even with all the differences, the similarities hit her sometimes.

And sometimes they hit wrong, on days she was already seeing ghosts from the corners of her eyes around the city, and she had to shut herself in her room and try not to fall back into the shadows of the future-past. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t but she rarely had an attack bad enough to drag her fully into her own mind- to trap her in her memories until Akira didn’t know where he was or when his was, or on really bad days even  _ who _ he was really- and she’d never had one around Goro. Yu and Minato were the only ones who had seen those, and had watched over her until she could be pulled back to a normal breakdown, rather than the full disassociation fit she’d been trapped in.

Some days were better than others, and she could function normally as she wandered around Tokyo between classes and swung by Leblanc- and it was strange to see Sojiro so much livelier, to see Futaba running in and out with a school uniform brightly and loudly, to see Wakaba herself there teasing the man and criticizing his curry and coffee, and remind herself of what she would protect even as she fought off the hurt of a lost home- or Untouchables- Iwai was as much of a jackass as ever, but he at least appreciated her eye for his wares and her occasional help with Kaoru’s homework- or Crossroads- and Lala was so, so understanding even without knowing the details or context, she’d known a scary amount at a glance, and Ren wasn’t sure if it made it harder or easier to breathe, especially seeing Ohya with her arms flung around Murakami in a manner that was definitely not platonic as the two laughed and planned their next article- and other places Akira had drawn comfort from.

Other days… other days made everything hurt and the world go grey.

Other days she returned home and fell to the couch and cried and couldn’t breathe or speak through the aching loss.

Goro had been scared the first couple of times, because she’d only told him pieces of her trauma during the months spent building his trust before steal-  _ adopting- _ him, and these were glimpses into exactly how much it hurt her, and he didn’t know what to do other than just leave her alone. And she could tell, after she pulled herself back, how much he didn’t want to do that. But they’d explained the basics, and that there really wasn’t anything  _ to _ do. The causes were long past, and nothing could erase the feelings or memories.

If Yu was home- which wasn’t a given, considering he didn’t know how to  _ not _ be busy with college and work, more so than her even- she’d curl up against him and he’d hold her until she could speak and function again. Otherwise, she just curled up by herself and tried not to drown in the past.

Until one day, someone nudged at her. And she blinked through the tears in her eyes, and at another nudge unconsciously unfolded shaking limbs, and suddenly there was a thirteen year old boy climbing on the couch and wrapping his arms around her shoulders determinedly. And it took a moment to process.

That Goro- the boy who instinctively shied away from contact, who flinched if they moved too fast, who was so, so wary at their constant attempts at affection, and it hurt them even if they knew why, because they’d both grown up without any affection at all and they knew how necessary it really was- was willingly initiating contact. That he was not only hugging her, but had climbed on the couch while she was upset to lay with her like Yu did, because he’d seen them and knew it helped and-

She shook and her breath hitched as she clung tightly to him and buried her face in his hair and whispered a near-silent “Thank you,” as tears fell from her eyes. He shivered against her, whether at the acknowledgement or her shattered tone she didn’t know, and clung tighter.

Yu arrived back from class to find them both asleep, curled up together and looking more relaxed than they ever had, and gently settled a blanket over them to keep away the chill.

It became more common after that. If Yu wasn’t home- and sometimes when he was, if Goro got there first or just felt particularly concerned- Goro would act as her anchor. It also seemed to flip some sort of switch- that yes, affection and touches  _ were _ okay, he could initiate, he didn’t need to ask for a hug or casual contact, and he started doing it more often. It was slower with Yu, because Ren had started the rapport first, and had been the one to reach out to him, and bring him home, and generally just pushed more than Yu did, but Goro was starting to genuinely trust him too.

It scared Goro sometimes, she knew. That he did trust them, was starting to love them, and he was scared that something would happen. That he would find out it was a trick, or he would be taken away, or  _ they _ would be taken away too.

When it happened he either became totally cold and distant or overtly clingy. Admittedly she preferred the latter, because she could just drag him to the couch and turn on Featherman and the mood would pass after a few hours of constant contact and affection.

The former, she didn’t know what to do other than give him space and hope he’d talk when he needed to. But she remembered Akechi all too well, and was scared of letting that distance form. Because Akechi had been able to talk himself into every bad decision he’d ever faced, even with Yaldabaoth exacerbating the issue, and she refused to allow that fate. So she’d give him space for a while, before carefully nudging her way into his room and a conversation about the issue.

He’d snapped at her more than once- defensive and angry and scared- and it always hurt something in her chest that rested alarmingly close to the wounds from where she’d failed everyone before.

But somehow, the immediate guilt and regret that flashed across his face hurt more.

And she always reached out to pull him into a hug and hoped it was the right thing to do, because she didn’t know what else  _ to _ do. Of all his confidants, Akechi was the one persona Akira had never been able to tell for certain what response was the correct one. The others were all fairly easy to read and guess, but Akechi… His mask had been as good as Akira’s, and even the glimpses from Robin Hood this time barely helped. So she took action and hoped it didn’t make things worse.

So far, it hadn’t been the wrong call. He’d always slumped against her and burst into tears, then quietly admitted what was bothering him once he’d calmed down as she ran her fingers through his hair. It wasn’t hard to reassure him, because it was the truth. He was here to stay, and so were they.

Healing wasn’t a linear process, and there were always setbacks, but they were all trying.

Ren was trying to stay grounded to here and now and not get lost in the potentials of the future.

Yu was trying to hold himself back, to avoid falling back into his bad habit of overworking himself until he was so tired that the world turned grey and he didn’t care about the pain anymore.

Goro was trying to trust, to allow himself to have this and be happy for once.

It was hard, and in many ways it was a learning curve for all of them.

Goro knew there was a lot they were keeping back- before they’d taken him in he’d suspected that Ren was ex-yakuza just based on her vague descriptions of “her team” and being betrayed and losing the people she loved- but over time he pushed that theory aside for a potential government organization. He wasn’t sure, but he knew there was something big they were involved in. But he also knew that they weren’t keeping secrets so much as trying to figure out how the hell to explain it safely and coherently, so he could be patient. He listened though, to them and their friends, especially when Minato and Ryoji crashed in the living room on the occasional weekend. It wasn’t difficult to put together that there was a secret supernatural organization trying to fight monsters, and that was super cool, but he stayed quiet and watched and listened and waited for the proper explanation.

Ren and Yu tried to keep from overstressing about the future. About Yaldabaoth and the Velvet Room and Shido; but it was hard. Especially once they noticed that Shido was starting to poke around the Shadow Ops formation and research. But they’d warned Mitsuru, and she was keeping a tighter grip on the research they gave to the government branch this time, and Ren was keeping an eye on Wakaba, so-

They did what they could, and tried not to stress about everything else.

But that was easier said than done, and sooner or later it was bound to happen that Ren would have one of her bad episodes around Goro. A little over a year since they’d taken him in, one of them hit while it was just the two of them at home. Minato had stuff to do in Iwatodai so he hadn’t come for the weekend, and Yu had been all but dragged out by a couple of friends from class for… something. It hadn’t really been clear, but Yu’s expression had been beyond exasperated so it was undoubtedly something ridiculous.

Ren was probably a terrible paramour for laughing at him.

But he was dragged out, leaving the two of them alone to their baking because Akira had known that Akechi couldn’t and Ren had decided Goro should learn, and Goro didn’t like being the only person in the apartment who couldn’t. So they often used Sundays as baking or cooking days, and Goro wanted cookies. Hence, baking day.

The TV was playing Featherman reruns in the background as they did so, filler arc episodes they’d seen plenty of times before so neither was too distracted.

It was fun. Goro was methodical and meticulous, and had the tendency to double check the recipe three times before adding anything and had to measure everything exactly. Ren’s tendency to eyeball things within the approximate amount appalled him, which made her laugh and remind him that some recipes were more forgiving than others. Baking was much less forgiving than cooking, but chocolate cookies were forgiving of the fact that the flour wasn’t perfectly level with the edge of the cup, or the butter was a little over the line, or there was a bit extra or missing sugar. And the look on his face when she just splashed some vanilla in without measuring it sent her into a burst of snickers.

He firmly pushed her out of the way and took over the rest after that, measuring each ingredient and scoop of dough carefully. She watched him with a grin, snaking her hand past him to steal a scoop of dough with her fingers and licking it off, to his squawk of indignation.

Laughing she danced out of reach of his retaliatory swat, leaning against the counter to fondly watch him finish up. One of these days she was going to throw him at a counter full of ingredients without a recipe to see what he did with them.

Oh, the panicked indignation was going to be  _ hilarious _ . He’d figure it out, though. Akechi had always been good at puzzles, and cooking wasn’t actually that hard as long as you paid attention. And it wasn’t like they’d just abandon him, but the challenge would be good for him. Get him out of that rigid order mindset and more open to experimenting and editing recipes.

The cookies went in, the timer was set, and they waited. Goro kept glancing at the timer, though, and Ren sighed with a smile and tugged him towards the sink. “A watched pot never boils; a watched clock barely moves. It’ll ring when it goes off, and I promise the cookies are not at risk of burning. Help me clean up.”

The motions of washing dishes made him relax some, and soon enough they were done and the timer was ringing. Goro hurried over, and when he set the cookies on the stove they were slightly crispy but still soft.

“Looks like a perfect round to me,” she mused dropping an arm on his shoulder. “Nice job.”

“Haven’t tasted them yet,” he pointed out with a small smirk. “They might taste too vanilla-y.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Well they’re still too hot to taste test, so we’ll just have to wait and see.” They did a quick loop of the kitchen, pushing appliances and dishes back into place, and then Ren leaned against the counter to watch him finish setting the cookies on cooling racks.

She wasn’t paying attention, though, and her elbow hit the remote and made it flip against the counter. “Oops, shit.”

“Language!” Imitating Yukari’s scolding, Goro sent her a mock scowl.

Ren went to roll her eyes, but a gut-twistingly familiar voice echoed through the apartment and her whole body stiffened.  _ “-someone strong to steer this country on the correct path. I hope to help make this a reality, which is why I’m running for a seat-” _

That was-

_ “Fools like you just need to follow where I steer this country!” _

_ “It seems the customer base has changed since I was here last.” _

_ “Hmm, yes, a suicide does seem like an efficient way to tie up loose ends. I leave it to you, Akechi.” _

The air wouldn’t come,  _ that voice _ , and the familiar red eyes scowling at him from a couple of feet away and Akira’s heart twisted in his chest the echo of that voice with those cold red eyes-

_ “Case closed. This is how your justice ends.” _

And it hurt, it hurt, but- it wasn’t real, that wasn’t here, wasn’t now he wasn’t- she wasn’t-

“Ren?” Akechi- no, Goro, he was  _ Goro _ here- asked, and the glare had been replaced with concern.

Akira- no, Ren, Ren,  _ Ren- _ opened his-her-his- mouth to speak, but nothing would come. Even the air was struggling, and he-she couldn’t breathe as she shook. Because- because she knew where she was, but  _ he _ shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, couldn’t know, couldn’t find out-

Ren wasn’t conscious of her knees hitting the laminite, but suddenly she was on her hands and knees and Goro was next to her with wide, scared eyes, and the sudden silence was ringing and she was distantly aware that he must have turned the TV off but it didn’t matter because  _ he _ had intruded already even just his presence enough to ruin everything- steal everything away again-

“Ren?”

Akira shook his head, trying to breathe. That wasn’t- that was right it should be right but it didn’t feel right he wasn’t- she  _ was _ \- no, no, stay here focus don’t fall back Ren,  _ Ren _ and Goro was here she couldn’t fall apart but-

Hands were squeezing her shoulders and Akechi-  _ Goro _ was looking at her with wide, focused eyes. “Ren,  _ breathe.” _

“Trying-” she choked out. “Can’t-” She-he-she felt like there was a hand around his throat, squeezing, and a hand around her heart as the voices echoed in his head. Ice was spreading out from his chest the same way it had when they used the syringes- the ground was cold against his hands  _ the hands hot on his shoulders holding him down and he couldn’t breath couldn’t stand the pain as he thrashed and tried to scramble away the ground cold beneath him as he fell, and- _

_ “Sign the confession.” _

_ “This is how your justice ends.” _

_ “You have failed your rehabilitation. Thus, mankind is forfeit.” _

_ “Oh god, what the hell is even going on?!” _

_ “Akira, what do we do?!” _

_ “Joker, orders!” _

_ They fought, they all fought so hard they gave it their all but they couldn’t gain any ground. Everything was countered and brushed off. And then they were gone- _

_ “Finish this!” _

_ No. _

_ No, no, no please no- _

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed, I ruined everything- Everyone- _

The memories played on repeat- everything he’d done wrong, every mistake, everything he could have avoided, done better-

He wasn’t conscious of the tears falling from his eyes or the apologies tumbling near-silently from his lips as Goro wrapped his arms around him, shaking.

He was terrified, he’d seen Ren bad before but this- this was worse than anything else he’d seen from her. He didn’t know what to do, she was completely unresponsive to anything that wasn’t going on in her own head. And what she was saying-

A mix of pleas to stop, of apologies for failure, names that he didn’t recognize and one he  _ did _ but made no sense because she had no reason to apologize to him and she hadn’t used his family name in well over a year and he knew she didn’t know his mother so-

He pushed it aside for now, because confusion aside what she was saying was horrifying and terrifying and he wanted her out of whatever nightmare she was reliving that was hurting her so much  _ but she wouldn’t respond. _ He could feel tears welling in his eyes but angrily brushed them away because that wouldn’t help anything right now.

What did he do, what did he do? Ren wasn’t answering and he’d never seen her like this so what should he do? What had caused this? Had it been that guy on TV? Who was he, and what had he done to her? Or was it just what he’d said?

_ Not important right now, fix this! _

But  _ how?! _

If she wasn’t responding and he didn’t know-

Did Yu know? Or Minato?

Goro scrambled over to the counter and grabbed Ren’s phone, dropping back down next to her and pulling her head and shoulders into his lap to keep them from hitting the floor if she got worse. He dialed the number with shaking fingers, nearly dropping the phone, but he got it and held it up to his ear as it rang.

It beeped.  _ “Ren-?” _

“She’s not answering me!” Goro blurted out before he could think to parse his words, and they came out teary. “I-I know she gets lost in her head sometimes but not like this! I- I don’t know what to do-”

_ “Calm down. Take a deep breath for me? Then explain.” _

Goro listened, but it only marginally helped. His words stumbled over each other as he explained what had happened- the remote, the guy, the way she’d gone white, then collapsed and fallen into her own head, and what she was saying-

_ “Shit,” _ Yu hissed.  _ “Fucking merdé ubl'udak-” _

Goro tensed at the uncharacteristic response. Yu must have been really mad to curse in multiple languages. Yu didn’t  _ get _ mad. It- he was always so calm, Goro had  _ never _ heard him angry. “Yu?” he asked, and his voice came out smaller than he’d like. He hadn’t meant to sound so scared.

The was a brief silence on the other end, then a quiet breath out.  _ “Sorry. It’s not you I’m angry at, I promise. I’m on my way back. Where are you at?” _

“In the kitchen, we’d just finished the cookies when it happened.”

_ “Neither of you were hurt?” _

“No, aside from what’s happening to her. Is- Is she- what do I do?”

_ “Just stay with her, don’t let her hurt herself accidently. Unfortunately there’s nothing else you can do. Minato and I have never been able to pull her out of one of these, which is why she usually tries really hard to avoid them.” _

“How- how long will it last?”

_ “It depends on the episode. The shortest we’ve ever seen was around an hour before she managed to drag herself out of it. The longest… it took almost six hours one time.” _

Goro’s breath hitched in his chest, tears stinging his eyes.  _ Six hours?! _ Six hours of Ren like this, dealing with these memories? His voice came out weak. “There’s- there’s really nothing we can do?”

_ “I’m sorry, Goro. But we’ve never found anything that worked, and we’ve always been worried about making it worse. The most we can do is stay nearby for when she manages to bring herself back.” _

He curled over Ren’s shaking form, trying to swallow back a sob. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll stay with her.”

_ “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you want me to stay on the phone?” _

“N-No, it’s alright. I’ll be okay. Just- focus on getting here.”

_ “Alright. And Goro? It’ll be okay. I promise. She’s made it through these before.” _

He nodded, before remembering that Yu couldn’t see him. “Okay. I’ll- I’ll be okay.”

_ “Okay. I’ll be there soon.” _

Goro waited for him to hang up before allowing the sobs to heave from his chest. He ran a shaking hand through her hair in a clumsy mimicry of what she did when he was upset, but it didn’t feel like enough. It  _ wasn’t _ enough. He needed- he needed to do  _ something. _

_ Anything. _

If- if nothing else, he didn’t want to leave her on the floor like this. Curled up, shaking, blank, distant eyes, the occasional muffled whimper falling from her chest- it was bad enough as it was, he didn’t want her to stay like this.

He bit his lip, considering. He’d been training with them a lot- she’d offered off-hand to teach him hand-to-hand, and somehow that had spiralled into a full workout routine created by Sanada-san- so he’d gotten a lot stronger. He could probably pick her up and carry her. Not far, but it was just a few feet to the couch. And that felt- better. That was where they usually ended up for bad mental stuff, so… if nothing else, it was better than here.

Shoving Ren’s phone in his pocket with shaking hands, Goro swiped at his face then shifted Ren around. Watching her mostly-limp form follow the motion without resistance made something sick curl in his stomach, and he choked back another sob. She was okay. Even like this, she was here, and  _ alive, _ and she would stay that way because she  _ promised. _

So even with her body limp, nearly dead weight in his grip as he struggled to carry her to the couch, he fought off the panic and bad memories and settled her down. He curled against her and wrapped his arms around her and tried not to think about the fact that she wasn’t hugging him back for once.

“Please, Ren,” he whispered against her hair, shaking, “please come back.”

She didn’t respond, eyes still distant as soft, broken noises still fell from her throat, but she curled slightly against him and her hand clutched weakly at his shirt, and it wasn’t enough but it was  _ something. _

He had no way of keeping track of the time as they lay there and he pulled her close, but eventually he heard the front door flung open and closed as shoes were tossed off and suddenly Yu swung around the corner, out of breath and expression openly concerned.

His gaze found them on the couch and he paused for a moment before shifting his path and moving over to them. “Any change?” he asked quietly, kneeling down.

Goro shook his head. “She’s still mostly unresponsive. I don’t… know what to do.”

Yu sighed and slowly- carefully, he was always so careful around Goro like he was afraid of scaring him, so unlike Ren’s forwardness, and yet they both had different things that Goro appreciated so much- reached out to brush a hand over Goro’s hair. “There’s not really anything to do. When she gets like this, all we can really do is stay close and wait for her to come back on her own.”

He didn’t like that answer, and it must have shown on his face because Yu winced and pushed himself up to sit next to them and leaned forward to run his fingers through Goro’s hair properly. Goro just closed his eyes and tried to draw some measure of comfort from it. But it was hard when he was so scared.

There was a slight shift above him, and he opened his eyes to see Yu lean back with a small wince. He caught Goro’s frown and shrugged. “Are you willing to move? There’s more room on the bed.”

Oh. Right, this angle would be a little awkward for him. Goro nodded and sat up, carefully extricating himself from Ren. She shuddered slightly but didn’t otherwise respond, and Yu squeezed his shoulder as he swallowed.

Unlike Goro, who had struggled, Yu lifted Ren easily as he carried her to their bedroom. Normally Goro would be slightly envious and think it was cool, but right now it just made him feel that much more inadequate as he trailed after him. Yu noticed though, as he turned from the bed and saw Goro hovering by the door.

His expression softened slightly and he held out his arm in a silent offer. Goro hesitated for a moment, but- he really kind of wanted a hug.

And even months ago he would have shrugged the offer off uncomfortably and either gone to hide in his room or edged around him to sit next to the bed, no matter how much he wanted it, but… Ren and Yu had proven time and time again that it was okay, that they were safe. Yu was more reserved, less overtly affectionate because, as Ren had told him, he was worried about overstepping. But he was always open to it, always reciprocated when Ren or Goro initiated, and Goro had slowly come to trust that it was okay even when it wasn’t obvious.

So he crossed the room in three quick strides and pressed close to him as Yu wrapped his arms solidly around him. Not too long ago the strength of it would have felt constricting; but now it was just comforting. Yu would let go at the slightest indication that he was uncomfortable, and knowing that made all the difference. So he buried his face in Yu’s chest and wrapped his arms around him and let himself sob.

The way she’d just collapsed, gone limp with empty eyes- it reminded him too much of  _ her _ , and he  _ knew _ it was different but it still… it was too similar.  _ She _ had run away, made the choice to leave him behind because staying and dealing with him was too hard. Ren stayed, had promised to always stay, and she’d fought to keep herself here, had been pulled into this state unwillingly rather than by her own choice.

But that expression had looked so similar.

His hands twisted in Yu’s shirt as his breath hitched, but Yu just squeezed him tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he cried himself out. When he finally pulled away with a sniff to wipe his eyes, he saw that Yu’s eyes were watery as well.

It made him feel a little better about the kind of mess he was right now, at least.

Goro pulled away to climb onto the bed and return to the position they’d been on the couch, with his arms wrapped around Ren and her head tucked under his chin, the way she did for him when he was upset. It was the only thing he could think to do. Yu settled on the other side of her, pressed against her back with his arm beneath Goro’s head so he was leaning on the man’s shoulder and it was… not nice, not with Ren like this, but comforting. Ren’s eyes were mostly closed now, and she was quiet, but he could feel her breathing and trembling against him so at least he wasn’t panicking. Yu had pulled out his phone and was typing something out one-handed, and Goro glimpsed Minato’s name before he looked away. He wondered if that meant Minato would be spending the week here again.

That thought and the quiet turned his mind back to his earlier confusion, though. There was no guarantee that it was anyone related to him. His family name may not have been overly common, but it wasn’t unheard of either. It could be a coincidence.

Something though… something told him it wasn’t. But she had no reason to apologize to him, and he did know for certain that she hadn’t known his mother, so… a close relative? But in that case she would have mentioned it before; that wasn’t the type of secret she would keep. So then… what?

Closing his eyes, Goro thought back to what she had been saying. It twisted his stomach to think about it, to remember her tone of voice and the self-recriminating words, but he mentally flipped through them trying to glean a clue. Most of it didn’t make sense, references to people and places and events he’d only heard the barest explanations of from her in the past, but something jumped out. She’d said she’d  _ come back to make it right _ . Come back where? To Tokyo? But in that case, what was she fixing? Was it something to do with the monsters they fought, he was pretty sure he’d overheard them called “Shadows”? But…

Hmm, that didn’t feel quite right. She’d… said something else too.  _ “I’ll- I’ll do it right this time, I promise, I promise.” _ What had she meant by that?

A theory slowly formed as he tried to fit the pieces together. A far-fetched, ridiculous theory that couldn’t possibly be true, yet made too much sense when he put Ren’s actions and behavior and  _ knowledge _ into its context. Some of the things she said, the way she talked about certain media or technology like it was outdated even though it was new, the way she knew things about him that he didn’t remember telling her, or that even he didn’t know-

There was no way. It couldn’t be.

But-

He tightened his grip on her and opened his eyes to look at Yu. He was still looking at his phone with a tight mouth, concerned. Goro bit his lip. It was ridiculous. There was no way it was possible, much less  _ real _ , but… he  _ had _ to know. “Yu?”

Yu looked over at him immediately. “What is it?”

“Is…” He hesitated, but pushed through. “Did these start before or after she jumped back through time?” He hadn’t really fully expected to be right, to get confirmation, but the way Yu stiffened said it all.

What. The.  _ Hell? _

Yu looked at him like he wanted to argue, to refute the point, but whatever he saw in Goro’s gaze made his shoulders slump with a sigh. “So you figured it out after all… well, we knew this would happen eventually.”

“I- I wasn’t expecting to be  _ right _ ,” Goro nearly squeaked. “ _ How?! _ And why would she come back in time?”

The look Yu gave him was solemn, and drained his startled panic almost immediately. “You’ve heard what she’s said during her worse episodes, right? This one especially, and I know she’s told you the basics of what happened to her team too.”

That… made Goro still, a lot of loose pieces clicking together. “Oh,” he whispered, mind flicking through story after story that he’d managed to get from Ren about her past. And oh,  _ oh, _ so many things made sense now. “Were they killed by the monsters you guys fight?”

“You know about  _ that _ too?”

“I figured that out a while ago,” Goro admitted. “I listened to you all talk a lot, and I figured that you were part of some sort of government organization just based off of Ren’s stories about her team and a traitor, so it wasn’t hard to make a deductive leap from that to the “Shadows” you guys talk about fighting sometimes. But I don’t know any details, and haven’t been able to really figure anything else out.” He fidgeted nervously, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have been trying to figure it out after all.

But Yu reached up to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “I’m impressed, but probably not as surprised as I should be. We weren’t planning to tell you just yet, but if you’ve already deduced this much there’s not much point in hiding it. You’ll either want to get involved or you won’t, and it’s better to tell you than potentially letting you hurt yourself.”

Goro hesitated. “Does Ren…”

“She’s never wanted or planned to hide it from you, or to keep you from getting involved. But she didn’t want to pressure you with it either, and she wasn’t sure how to fully explain with how complicated it is.” He tilted his head. “Do you want to know?”

“I do. Is she okay with it, though?”

Yu nodded. “She already told both myself and Minato that if the situation arose, she didn’t mind us explaining things. I don’t think she meant quite like this, but…”

Goro squeezed her, and nodded. “I’d… I’d like to know.”

“Okay. Fair warning, it’s a lot.” Yu let out a long, quiet breath. “Where to begin… I guess with the Kirijo Group.”

Goro listened avidly as Yu began explaining the many events leading up to this point. It… was a lot, and there were points he found himself somewhat incredulous, but… but Yu wouldn’t make this up, and it made a lot of things make sense about them, and their friends.

He’d already known Ryoji and Teddie were Shadows, he’d overheard that, but now he had context for what that  _ meant _ , and he had to restrain himself from asking a million and one questions about how Shadows and Personas even  _ worked _ .

But he bit them back and listened, asking for clarification on one event or another occasionally as Yu described SEES and their battle against Nyx, and then their efforts to begin setting up the Shadow Ops while they kept tabs on the Investigation Team in Inaba during their hunt for a murderer.

And now the jokes about twins and clones and shared names from Ren towards Yu made sense, because to everyone in this time he was Yuki, and Yu was just Ren’s nickname for him that Goro and Minato and Ryoji had all picked up. And the fact that it hadn’t been just Ren, but them as well who had come back… in retrospect it made sense, but it was still a shock.

When Yu finally finished explaining, Goro noted that the whole explanation had been of  _ this _ timeline, and that Yu hadn’t talked about the other one at all. It… made him a little uneasy.

“Where do I fit into all this?”

Yu shrugged, but Goro could read the careful way he answered. “I wasn’t there for that, but I know you and Ren were friends last time around. I think you were alone, and she didn’t want you to be. So she came to find you. One of the many things she’s trying to make better, this time around.”

There was more to that, Goro knew it, but as much as he wanted to press… maybe it would be better to wait. Considering how forthcoming Yu had been about everything that happened this time around, perhaps it was simply Ren’s story to tell. So he pushed it aside for the moment, and started asking the more miscellaneous questions he’d wanted to know the answers to. About Shadows and Personas and the Velvet Room and the false gods they’d fought.

He was literally surrounded by  _ basically superheroes _ and it was  _ really cool. _

And also terrifying, because looking at Ren’s state and the shadows in Yu and Minato’s eyes made it clear that it had all taken a toll on them.

“I wonder what my Persona was- or is, I guess…” he mused.

“Last time it was Robin Hood,” a quiet, raspy voice answered. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he still is.”

Goro jolted and looked down. “Ren!”

She smiled weakly up at him, eyes red-rimmed and exhausted. “Hey. Figured it out, huh?”

“Y-Yeah… in retrospect it’s… pretty obvious.”

Ren huffed out a laugh, rolling onto her back to look at both of them. “Well, to be fair we weren’t exactly trying to keep it a locked-away secret. I’ve only been sort of trying to hide it. Didn’t… really mind if you figured it out yourself. I couldn’t figure out how to tell you.”

Goro shifted to wrap an arm around her waist and tuck himself against her shoulder as she wrapped an arm around him and tangled her fingers with Yu’s as she lay against his side. “I don’t think I’d know how to explain it either.” He hesitated and peeked up at her. “We were… friends?”

A flicker crossed her eyes, something sad and bittersweet and full of contrary emotions. “It was… complicated. But yes, we were friends. We spent a lot of time playing chess and drinking coffee and arguing over philosophical ideals of social standards. It was fun, especially considering I was one of the people he was openly trying to catch, and we were both playing at having no clue.”

He blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Ah, Yu didn’t explain that?” He shook his head, and she snorted. “I’m not sure I should tell you, might take the fun out of it. Might change things I don’t want to change.” She smiled at his frown, a far cry from her usual teasing grin, but it was something. “I’m teasing. We were the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.”

“Phantom Thieves?!” He jolted up, wide eyed with disbelieving excitement. “Like- really?”

She laughed and tugged him back down, and explained the basics. Of a man who rigged the justice system against a normal high schooler in the wrong place at the wrong time, of the self-entitled gym teacher, of an abusive artist and a conniving scammer and a lost girl and a privileged father and- of the corrupt politician who’d started it all, and the false god who pulled the strings.

There were gaps, though, where she was very clearly leaving out information. Names, people, places, events, and at the end of it he was left with the feeling that he was missing half the story. The ending had been especially vague- like she was skipping across events to hide some key detail. That she’d been caught- tortured and murdered and forced to watch her team die- was awful enough, but he had a sinking feeling there was something worse.

“So… was I on your team?”

He knew it was a dangerous question when he asked it,  _ knowing _ what had happened to them. But- he wanted to know. Had he been there with her, supporting her? Or had things reset without him having any idea? The flash of raw grief across her face answered it well enough, but her actual answer made ice freeze in his chest.

“You were. You were… the last to join, in an attempt to return your prosecutor partner to her former self, erase her distortion. And you were there at the end with us.” She swallowed, wet eyes flicking away. “You- took that last hit for me, saved me and gave me Robin Hood before you faded.” She wiped at her eyes, but stilled as she caught his expression. “Goro?”

He slowly pulled back staring at her. Because that- things fell into place. Too many things. She’d always been cagey about talking about her team, and what had happened to get them killed, but she’d mentioned a traitor a few times before quickly changing the subject. She’d slipped once, saying that she’d known what he was planning, but still considered him a friend.

That they’d been the last to join the team, in an attempt to assassinate her for the organization they were a part of.

Things clicked together, and Goro felt like his heart was tearing itself apart.

“I killed you,” he whispered in realization, voice breaking. “I betrayed you and killed you-”

He tried to pull back as Ren’s eyes widened in shock and a flicker of regret and Yu tensed behind her, but before he could pull away from her there were arms tightening around his shoulders and Ren sat up to drag him into a hug.

“You didn’t,” she whispered. “Goro, you didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, tears blurring his vision as he clutched her shirt. “I’m not stupid, I can put the pieces together-”

_ “Goro,” _ she pulled back to face him fiercely, staring at him hard even with tears in her eyes. “ _ You _ have not done anything. You have never hurt me, nor have I ever thought you were going to.”

“That’s not- but I-”

“No,” she cut him off firmly, if gently. “You haven’t done anything. You aren’t him. You and Akira are not responsible for the mistakes Akechi and I made. Our sins are  _ not _ your burden to bear.” She pressed her forehead to his, voice thick as they both shook. “Don’t take responsibility for something you haven’t done, Goro. You aren’t him, and you won’t  _ be _ him. You aren’t alone and scared and desperate the way he was. You won’t fall for their lies and machinations the way he did, because you have others to turn to. Please, Goro, don’t put this on yourself.”

“I- I just-  _ why?!” _ he choked out.  _ “Why _ would I do that?!”

Ren breathed out, her eyes squeezed shut. “There was… a lot. He was… he didn’t have anyone. Yuki and I weren’t here and didn’t exist, Minato and Ryoji were technically dead and couldn’t do anything but watch from the Seal, and no one else had any way of knowing. So when Yaldabaoth took over the Velvet Room and sent Loki to act as his “Persona” and suppress his Wildcard abilities and push him on the path he wanted- there was no one to help. He was alone, and fourteen, with a powerful and dark voice in his head encouraging revenge against the man who had all but killed his mother.” Goro flinched at that, because he could- he could see that. He’d considered it, once or twice before Ren and Yu had taken him in; trying to find his father and… do something. He’d never gotten that far. But this… he could see how it could happen easily.

“What… what happened?”

He felt her twitch, could see the conflict on her face even with her eyes closed. It had been… really bad, hadn’t it? For her to react like this, and clearly not want to tell him…

“Please don’t lie,” he said, voice small. “No matter how awful it is… I want to know.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, their faces pressed against each other’s shoulders. “They… Shido used his ability in the Metaverse to turn him into his assassin. It was perfect for him, because no one could prove anything. The lead researcher was killed early on, and the Shadow Ops lost all contact and access to that research when the branch was shut down as a result. Shido was the only one with access to that research, and he used it to gather allies into a full conspiracy. All of our targets were connected to it in some way or another, although the teacher was incidental through the principal. But the others were directly connected, and so that was our enemy at the end. But…”

Shoulder hitching with sobs, Goro tightened his grip on her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He hated that. He hated everything he’d just heard. He hated how easy it was to believe. To see how it would happen, and he’d become that.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Ren murmured. “You haven’t done anything, and I never thought you  _ would _ do anything. Now I know you definitely won’t.” She tangled a hand in his hair, pulling him close. “I forgave him anyway, and I would never hold his actions against you.”

It didn’t really make him feel better, because Ren was a naturally forgiving person. Of  _ course _ she would forgive that, even if he didn’t necessarily deserve it. But… he  _ wasn’t _ him, and he knew that, it wasn’t that he thought he was, but that another version of him had done that- had betrayed her and  _ killed her  _ and- even indirectly- her team _ - _ He wasn’t him, but he could have been. And that… that  _ really hurt. _

“You… came and found me,” Goro whispered against her shoulder. “You took me in and have tried so hard to make me happy even after what he did to you- why? Even if I’m not him, I could have been. There were so many different ways you could have handled it to stop me from becoming that, so why-?”

Ren tightened her hug. “Because I wanted to, and I could. No one deserves to be hurt and alone like that, and if I can stop that I will. I never hated him, Goro. It hurt, and I was angry at him for a lot of different reasons, but I did truly consider him a friend. If I could have saved him I would have, but there was nothing stopping me from saving you.” She leaned her head against his. “I wouldn’t  _ let _ anything stop me. Not Shido, or Yaldabaoth, or a few annoying laws. What he did doesn’t matter in regards to you.”

“You can’t just  _ ignore _ it, though.”

“I’m not. I don’t. I know what you like, and dislike, and utilize that, don’t I? You’re not him as he was, and his actions aren’t your responsibility, but you’re still a version of him, so… some things are the same.” He felt her smile against the side of his neck. “Like an obsession for Featherman and sweet, and how you hate bitter things to the point of gagging.” A giggle escaped her as she squeezed him. “I bet you can’t handle spicy food at  _ all _ , either.”

“I can!” he protested, lying through his teeth. He hated spicy things.

Her snort said she knew it, and she pulled back to smile at him. “Can’t. I stole- took you in, because I wanted to. He was my friend, and I like you and want you to be happy, so I’ll make sure of it myself. That’s really all there is, and no I will not accept arguments.”

He huffed out a weak laugh. He  _ knew _ what she was doing, but couldn’t find it in himself to be frustrated that it was working. Ren always knew how to cheer people up. She was just… like that, and so were Yu and Minato.

“You really need to stop saying you stole him,” Yu interjected with tired amusement. “Eventually the wrong person is going to hear that and investigate you on kidnapping suspicions.”

Ren sniffed, turning to look at him. “All they’ll find is the legal paperwork.”

“You mean technically illegal paperwork?”

“Shhh, it has all the legal beats on it, it’s fine. No one will look  _ that _ closely at it, beyond the surface skim. And even if they did, I have Mitsuru on my side. It’ll be fine. Worst comes to worst we jump ship and run away to France.”

Goro snorted, finally relaxing as he leaned against her and wiped his eyes. “You’ve said that before. Do you  _ actually _ have getaway plans to France?”

“And a couple of other countries,” she admitted with a sheepish shrug. “As a worst case scenario. We  _ are _ dealing with a government conspiracy, after all, and none of us particularly want to be assassinated or enlisted.”

“I’m still in favor of Romania, personally,” Yu mused. “Minato wants to go to LA, and Ryoji wants a tropical island.”

A snicker bubbled up in Goro’s chest before he could think to stop it, giving way to a laugh, and suddenly he was doubled over laughing as he tried desperately to breathe. He couldn’t- he couldn’t seem to stop it. Ren was rubbing his back. His face was wet.

He felt himself being tugged around, and allowed Ren to reverse their positions so he was tucked between her and Yu, surrounded by their warmth as his laughter gave way to sobs again. It was all just… a lot. He didn’t know why he was crying, just that he felt overwhelmed. But Yu and Ren were right there, so… he found he wasn’t particularly scared, which was… a really nice change. Yu rubbed his back as Ren ran her fingers through his hair, and he slowly relaxed again.

“Maybe it was too soon to tell him,” he heard Ren murmur above him. “I keep forgetting how young he really is. I’m used to him being able to adapt to anything thrown at him, but… he’s only thirteen.”

“Ken was only ten,” Yu reminded her. “And withholding the information when he already figured out as much as he did would only hurt more in the long run. If he figured out most of these things on his own…”

Ren tightened her grip on him. “Yeah. It would have been much worse. I know. Just…” she sighed, breath ruffling his hair gently. “I didn’t want to hurt him like this.”

Yu shifted against him, hand reaching past him to presumably touch Ren. “I know. It’ll be alright, though. We’re here, and he’s strong enough to handle it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Goro mumbled against her shoulder. “Just… a lot to take in.”

“True.” She scratched lightly against his scalp and he hummed pleasantly. “And we’re not going anywhere.”

Yeah. He knew that. They were… they were safe. He hesitated, biting his lip. He’d never said it before, but… This, more than anything, had proven that… that it was okay. “Love you,” he whispered, barely audible as a fine tremor ran through him.

He felt Ren’s breath hitch in her chest, felt Yu’s twitch of surprise, and then Ren was squeezing him tightly. “Love you too,” she whispered back, voice thick as she pressed her face to his hair.

Yu wrapped his arm more securely around them, leaning against them and murmuring, “We love you too, Goro.”

He felt tears blurring his eyes again, and they burned and hurt and he was so tired of crying today, but this time… this time they were happy. When was the last time he’d heard that? When had someone last told him they loved him genuinely? It had been years- only his mother ever had, and he wasn’t certain that she hadn’t been lying towards the end. But now, these two were so firm about it, so genuine, that he couldn’t doubt it. They meant it, and after everything today… he was utterly overwhelmed.

But at the same time, he was happy. Even with how much it hurt to think about what had happened, he was really, truly happy with them. So… it would be okay. They’d fought to get him, and he would fight to keep them, to protect this, and them, and he’d never be  _ him. _

They seemed to think that was enough, so he’d believe them and do his best to help.

They lay there, basking in each other’s warmth for a long time, and Ren absently noted when Goro fell into a doze. His eyes were closed, and he looked unusually peaceful. It was a relief to see after the high stress of the day.

“I said too much,” she murmured absently as she stroked his hair. “With how easily he picks up and retains details, he’s going to figure out a lot more once he calms down and analyzes it.” Ren sighed, closing her eyes. “I mentioned there being a traitor a couple of times, but I only slipped up and said he was the last to join  _ once. _ And he still remembered it. He’s… going to put together a lot. Dammit, I brought up  _ Wakaba, _ even accidently.” He’d piece that together really quickly too- while they weren’t at Leblanc all the times, they swung by enough to be considered regulars. Goro and Futaba were friends, they argued about Featherman and she  _ knew _ they got up to trouble on Futaba’s laptop. He’d realize that tidbit about the head researcher and what it meant all too quickly.

Yu squeezed her shoulder. “It will be alright, Ren. He knows enough now that I think all the other realizations, no matter how painful, will just fuel his determination to keep the same things from happening this time.” His lips quirked up wryly. “I don’t think the realizations of his other self killing anyone will have quite the same impact after  _ you.” _

Well, there was that. “True. Hopefully he’ll actually come to me if he needs to talk or ask questions.”

“I’m sure he will. He has with other things, and especially after this, he knows he can.” He carefully pushed himself up to lean over and give her a quick, chaste kiss. “We’ll work it out.” He glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late, we need to eat.”

“Yeah, probably,” she sighed. “I don’t want to cook, but I definitely don’t have the energy to go anywhere.”

“I can make something.”

She grumbled, reaching out to snag his shirt. “No, I wanna stay like this. You, stay.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “We need to eat, Ren.”

“In a bit. If you move, you’ll wake him up, and if you wake him up I’ll be sad at you.”

“Ah, guess I’m trapped here then.” Yu ran a hand through her hair, and she leaned into the warm touch. “… I guess we could order takeout and have it delivered. Then I wouldn’t have to move for long.”

“Hmm, I like that idea,” she hummed, twisting to press a kiss to his wrist. “Comfort food sounds good.”

“My cooking is better though,” he pointed out.

“It is, but your presence is worth the slight drop in quality. And that takeout place just off Central Street hasn’t failed me yet, even if nothing quite lives up to you.”

He chuckled, and leaned over to press another kiss to her forehead. “Flatterer,” he teased gently.

“That’s my specialty,” she agreed with a smile, appreciating the way the golden light of evening fell across his face. “I have no idea where my phone is at.”

“I’ve got it,” Goro mumbled sleepily as he stirred, fumbling at his pocket and dragging out Ren’s phone without opening his eyes. “What’re we getting? Heard something about food.”

“Takeout place off Central,” Ren answered as she unlocked her phone. “I told Yu he wasn’t allowed to move long enough to cook.”

Goro hummed agreeably and leaned back against him. “Good,” he murmured.

Yu smiled and brushed his hair back out of his face. “The usual?”

“Yes please.”

“Gotcha,” Ren said, and made a face. “God I miss proper smartphones and easy online ordering. How much longer until that becomes mainstream? I really don’t wanna talk to anyone right now.”

Yu snorted and plucked the phone from her hand. “I’ll get it. Honestly, you young people and your smartphones,” he teased. “Back in my day we had proper conversations with people.” She stuck her tongue out at him and Goro laughed as Yu placed the call.

It was nice.

Comfortable, with all three of them here.

It was home, Ren and Goro realized simultaneously.

And Ren smiled at that as hope curled in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes are kicking my ass this semester, so updates are gonna be slow. Sorry :(
> 
> That said, I love this AU so, so much. Goro is a sweetheart- albeit a wary one. Ren and Yu are doing their best. Goro is also way too clever for his own good, and it was only a matter of time. But it’ll be okay, because he has support this time.
> 
> Writing a genderfluid character properly is damn near impossible when you’re using this time skip format, because it can change between hours, days, or months and it’s just like ¯\\_ (ツ)_/¯ hopefully it wasn’t too discordinant.
> 
> Also I kept having the startled realization of how young Ren and Yu are here, really. Like… they’re nineteen (granted Yu _was_ twenty-two before the time jump, but the _wonderful_ thing about biology is that mental maturity is literally curbed by emotional immaturity during puberty so like. Yu’s trying, but he’s also reliving being a teenager and can very much feel the difference in how he thinks. So he and Ren are on about equal levels of stress with everything.) And Goro is thirteen, so to him they seem so mature and collected and Adult™ but I just kept pausing like. No. They… really aren’t. They’re a couple of stressed late-teens trying to save the world and keep it together and help a traumatized child to heal.
> 
> Writing time travel is really interesting, especially once you get far enough along that the timeline has actually significantly changed from canon and now you’re exploring the ramifications of that.


	25. Day 25: Disorientation/Blurred Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is over- Yaldabaoth is defeated, the Metaverse is gone, and Akira has returned to his hometown to try to get back into the swing of a normal life during his final year of high school, trying to prepare for university.
> 
> So why is he having these strange dreams of a town he doesn’t recognize, people he doesn’t know, Shadows that look unfamiliar, and a door and statue surrounded by stars?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Memento Mori;_
> 
> _Remember that you are mortal._
> 
> _Remember that you will die._
> 
> _Remember your death._
> 
> Inspired by this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kf08D41R7Kc
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Death, Memories of dying, Past attempted assassination,

Akira had been back in Inaba for a month when the dreams began.

Flashes of a town he didn’t recognize, of wandering along a waterfront and looking at a bridge. Of a school and people he’d never seen. Of strange Shadows he’d never seen.

He didn’t think anything of them at first- they were disjointed and hazy enough that he assumed they were a result of the homesickness he had for Tokyo. He missed the Metaverse, the Thieves, the thrill of heists and fighting Shadows. He missed Tokyo, and spending time with his friends and confidants. It made sense that the longing for those things would manifest in his dreams.

And Inaba was boring enough that he had plenty of time to daydream about the other two groups Morgana had mentioned, and theorize with Shiho (and the others over text and call) what their adventures might have looked like. It wasn’t a jump to assume his mind was mixing memory and fantasy to cope. And it wasn’t like it happened every night- they only happened once a week or two.

So he brushed them off.

At first.

But as April gave way to May and May to June, they became more common, more vivid, and he stopped brushing them off so much.

Because they were becoming clearer, and were happening at least a few of times a week now. As though living through snippets of memory, rather than fantastical dreams. And then there _those_ dreams. The ones of a fight with another god on the top of a tower, his team behind him but not _his_ team. They were the ones from the dreams.

And then the flashes of a door with a statue chained to the front of it, in a void of stars. It would flicker for a moment, then disappear. He never got a good look at it, but it gave him a strong enough feeling that he really didn’t think these were just dreams.

The confirmation of that was… a little ridiculous, but it was the only thing he could think to do. Because a recurring detail was a song that played over and over on an old-school MP3-player he always carried in those dreams. There were multiple different songs that played of course, but _that one_ was played over and over.

So he looked it up, and _found it,_ and he really couldn’t think of them as normal dreams anymore.

_“I will-_

_Burn my dread~_

_This time I'll grapple down that god of fear_

_And throw him into hell's fire-_

_Burn my dread~_

_I will shrug the pain and run_

_Til I see the sunlight again._

_Oh, I will run…_

_Burning all regret and dread…_

_And I will face the sun-_

_With pride of the living…”_

Akira wondered at the lyrics, as he listened to it on his phone on the way to school, because the song hit a bit too close to his own experiences. It took a few days of mulling it over before he brought it up with Shiho.

They were at the Junes food court- mostly because food was the only interesting thing in the whole damn town, and Junes was at least cheap- when he brought it up.

“Not your usual type of music, Mr. Saxobeat,” she noted. “Very rock. This is more Ryuji’s thing- actually no, this is too metaphorical and dark for his taste.”

“It is a little dark when you actually analyze it,” Akira agreed, “and it definitely hits a lot of beats of how it felt over there, but that’s not the point. It _exists.”_

She frowned and hit replay. “And it’s more than you just hearing it somewhere without remembering it, and it showing up in your dreams? That happens sometimes, you know.”

“Not this frequently, or with such clarity. These dreams are realistic, every one of them could feasibly happen, there’s no weird dream-logic happening. They feel more real than even the Velvet Room did.”

“That’s what’s bothering me,” Morgana admitted. “Some people just naturally have real-feeling dreams, that work with similar logic as the real world. But you don’t usually, right?”

Akira shook his head. “I’ve always had weird dreams with full force dream-logic, and they’re usually fairly chaotic. The Velvet Room is one of the few times I’ve had a dream that genuinely felt real, rather than obviously a dream. Even the more normal dreams usually have a weird twist, so… this is unusual.”

“What about the Shadows?” Shiho pointed out, poking his sketchbook of dream sketches he’d started keeping at Yusuke’s suggestion. “You guys-” Futaba had somehow managed to get a recording of Morgana from Necronomicon to her phone before everything had ended, so they’d shown it to Shiho and his confidants so they weren’t stuck translating, so Shiho had gotten these explanations too, “-described the Shadows you usually face, and they’re way different than these. Like…” she flipped a page and pointed to a couple of the weirder ones. “A living table? A giant hand?”

“Neither of those are weirder than _Mara,”_ he muttered under his breath, “but I get your point. That’s full force dream-logic in theory, but… well. Shadows are weird, so it genuinely wouldn’t surprise me if these _were_ real Shadows.”

“Hmm… yeah, fair. All of this is weird to me.” She pulled the earbuds out and slid the phone back to him.

Akira tapped the table as she stole another of his fries, staring down at the sketchbook. There were… a few things that bothered him. But the two things that bothered him the most…

He hadn’t told anyone about how he summoned his Persona in the dreams. When they’d first started, he’d come the the natural conclusion about _why_ he’d be shooting himself in the head to summon his Persona in the dreams, and that was _not_ a can of worms he wanted to open.

They’d been over his issues with the interrogation enough, thanks.

But now he’d gotten the snippet with the red-haired girl explaining “Evokers”- a technological advancement designed to trick the mind by putting enough strain on it to summon a Persona in defense, though she hadn’t gone into detail of what was actually used in the Evoker to… evoke… that response.

It still bothered him, but now it was less a concern about the manifestation of his own trauma and more a concern of whether that was _real,_ and the implications therein. Were there people who had these, and had this ability in the real world? He’d brought up the possibility of it being another group to Morgana; but he’d admitted he didn’t know much about the other groups. He wasn’t really a proper attendant, after all, so he didn’t have the same level of knowledge as the others.

Akira hadn’t discounted the possibility, but that didn’t explain _how_ or _why_ he was getting these dreams. Why now? Why him?

He flipped a few more pages to stare at the sketch that covered the page. A giant door, with the statue of a boy wrapped in barbed wire.

 _Who are you,_ Akira wondered, _and why am I dreaming about you?_

“I’m not sure if there’s an easy way to find answers,” Morgana said with a flick of his tail, “but I guess we can-”

“Hello kitty~!”

They all jumped and glanced up at the bright, happy voice. A bright red, blue, and white bear mascot was bouncing towards them excitedly. Ah.

“Hello Teddie,” Akira greeted, drawing bewildered looks from the other two. “I haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Kurusu-chan~!!” The bear waved enthusiastically. “Sadly I’ve been beary busy, so I haven’t been in Inaba as much. But we’re back now!”

“Um.” Shiho blinked.

Teddie bowed to her. “Oh, a new face! Greetings! I am Teddie, made of 100% genuine Teddie fur! I’m Junes’ mascot!”

“Of the Inaba branch specifically,” Akira added.

“Correct! It’s beary nice to meet you!”

“Likewise…?” Shiho tilted her head at him with a confused glance at Akira.

He shrugged and turned back to Teddie. “Who’s we?”

“Hmm? Oh!” Teddie bounced brightly. “Everyone! Sensei and Nao-kun and Yosuke and Rise-chan all got time off, and we’re meeting up with Chie-chan, Yuki-chan, and Kanji-kun for a group hangout! It’s been so looong after all. It’s great to see everyone together again!”

Teddie was the same as ever, it seemed. The names sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place all of them. “So you came over for Morgana?” The betrayed look the attendant sent him had him biting back a snort. Morgana was not a fan of overly-excitable bear mascots it seemed.

“Oh, is that his name?!” Teddie leaned over to pat Morgana. “What a nice name for a nice kitty!”

“Grrr, just because I look like a cat doesn’t mean I am one!”

“Oh?” Teddie tilted to the side inquisitively. “If you aren’t a cat then what are you?”

“I’m a Velvet Room Attendant, and I’m going to get a human form eventually! … wait.”

Akira paused and stared at them. That… had definitely happened.

Oh god, not again. It was Akechi all over.

“Um… You… can understand him?” Shiho asked, tapping the table cautiously.

Teddie blinked and looked between them. “Should I not be able to? I’ve never met a talking cat before, but…”

“Oi, Teddie! What are you doing?”

They all glanced up to see a group of people making their way over and Akira nearly choked. That was _Rise Kujikawa_ and _Naoto Shirogane._ Granted he wasn’t surprised to see them in Inaba- everyone was familiar with their occasional visits now, and he was pretty sure Shirogane was engaged to Tatsumi, but he couldn’t say he’d expected to _talk_ to them.

Akira couldn’t say he was particularly enthused to dodge around the first coming of the Detective Prince especially.

And, judging by the thoughtful glance she sent him, she knew exactly who he was. Great.

(He found himself settling almost unconsciously into Joker’s mindset, pulling Arsène to the forefront as he prepared to spend the next conversation lying and misdirecting their attention.)

“Sensei!!!” Teddie waved excitedly. “I found a talking cat!”

The silver haired guy at the front perked up, and everyone else groaned. “Don’t tell him that,” Hanamura complained. “Now we’ll never drag him away- wait, did you say _talking?”_

Dammit. It was too late for damage control, though, as the guy wove around other tables to reach them. Akira couldn’t remember his name, but he _did_ recognize his face. He’d been pretty well known for being helpful the year he was here, and everyone had seen him feeding the strays whenever he visited.

Morgana looked displeased, and Akira sent him a sympathetic glance as the guy reached the table.

Well, if Shirogane knew who he was, it was possible some of the others did as well.

That… didn’t help him explain why his cat could talk.

Actually, how could _Teddie_ understand him?!

“Hello,” the man greeted Morgana.

Morgana eyed him warily back. “Hello. And like I _said,_ I’m not really a cat. This is just the form I take on this side.”

“Form you take?” Kujikawa tilted her head curiously as the others caught up, and Akira felt like he was about to have a legitimate heart attack. First of all, they could understand him. Second of all: _Rise Kujikawa was involved with the Metaverse somehow._

Ryuji and Ann were going to _flip their shit._

But she continued and he felt blindsided all over again. “Like Teddie?”

“He’s not just a mascot?” Shiho asked cautiously, glancing between them. The glance she sent Akira set off warning bells in his head. That was the same look Ann got when she was gearing up to throw down in someone’s defence, and he sent a slight- but mildly panicked- shake of his head at her. This might turn bad, but he did _not_ want her getting actively involved.

“Of course not!” Teddie protested indignantly. “I’m the handsomest mascot in all the world!” He struck a pose.

Akira arched a brow at Hanamura, who just- _sighed,_ with the most exasperated expression Akira could remember seeing. “ _Not_ what she was asking, Ted. And this is your fault, because we were _supposed_ to be leaving them alone.”

So they did know, and had been… keeping their distance?

“Nice going, Ted.” Satonaka sighed, crossing her arms and sending them an apologetic glance. “Sorry for freaking you out, we’ve been trying to leave you alone so you can get settled back into the whole…” she waved her hand vaguely, “-normal person thing.”

Well then. Akira leaned back crossing his arms nonchalantly. “No point in pretending, then, and how you know who I am is easy enough to guess.” He flicked a glance between Satonaka and Shirogane, both of whom he _knew_ were involved in enforcement. “My question is, how can you understand Morgana?” He sent a glance at the apparently-not-a-mascot hovering next to the silver haired guy. “And what is Teddie, if not a person in a mascot outfit?”

They guy at the front answered with a casual shrug. “I assume we can understand him because we have Personas, or we’re just so used to strange that it seems natural. Teddie is a Shadow from the Midnight Channel who gained sentience and helped us a couple of years ago. He figured out how to turn into a human, and followed us out onto this side.”

_What the hell._

He’d delivered that information _way_ too casually, and judging by the mixed looks the rest of the group was sending him, they knew it too. Shirogane turned her eyes upward in the most resignedly _done_ expression he’d ever seen, and Hanamura buried his face in his hands.

Well, at least the situation made sense now. He glanced at Morgana. “I didn’t realize either of the other groups you mentioned were here.”

“I didn’t either,” Morgana flicked his tail absently, gaze focused intensely on Teddie. “I’m not at the same level as the other attendants, and Margaret and Elizabeth are both frustratingly cryptic at the best of times. Hey, you’re not normally human, but you have a human form?”

“Correct!” Teddie’s “head” popped off, held up by a beaming blond boy with sparkling blue eyes.

“How?! Please tell me!”

Yeah, he’d seen that coming.

Akira sighed and explained at the other group’s bewildered look. “Morgana is a Velvet Room attendant. Sort of. Igor created him to guide me but it was a last ditch effort against Yaldabaoth, so he’s not a proper attendant. He’s been trying to get a human form for over a year now, but…”

“We haven’t found any leads,” Morgana was crouching down, staring at Teddie with a lashing tail.

The boy- Shadow?- tilted his head with a hum. “Hmm, I just did a lot of sit ups and wanted _really really hard_ to be able to come back with these guys! It was so lonely over there all by myself…”

“Ah,” Akira murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t see where the sit ups come in, but it sounds similar to a cognitive alteration. If you or Lavenza or the Velvet Room can show up here-”

“It makes sense that a Shadow managing to change his own cognitive state would be able to change his form,” Morgana finished, straightening with a look of despondency. “I see…”

Teddie frowned at him. “Does… that not help?”

Morgana shook his head with a sigh. “I’ve been wishing for a human form with all my heart all year. Maybe it’s because you’re a Shadow, or maybe it’s just the type of distortion you were created from…”

“Where do the sit ups come in…?” Amagi wondered with a thoughtful expression.

“It likely acted as a sort of catalyst,” Morgana shrugged. “Like a placebo effect; he convinced himself that the sit ups would trigger a change and give him a human form, so they did. It would have worked the same no matter the action he took- so long as he believed it. I’ve tried that, though…” He sighed again, ears drooping. “Back to square one…”

“We’ll figure something out,” Akira assured him, scratching behind his ears.

“I know, it’s just taking so long!”

“Have you tried asking Igor?” the silver haired guy asked- Akira really needed to get his name.

Morgana snorted. “He’s as bad as the other two. Cryptic answers aren’t really useful, so I’m trying to figure it out myself.”

“Oh…” Teddie pouted. “Sorry Teddie couldn’t be more help!”

“It’s fine, we’re working on it,” Morgana sighed, shaking his head.

Akira sent him a sympathetic look before turning his attention back to the others. Honestly, it all felt a little too… convenient. “So you’re here by coincidence?” He was careful to keep the skepticism from his voice, but they’d undoubtedly picked up on his wariness by their winces.

Shirogane seemed to come to a decision and stepped up next to the other guy. “Partially, but I’ll admit it wasn’t entirely.” So she’d decided to be forthright… that was a surprise. “We wanted to give you all some breathing room, but you also made a lot of enemies when you exposed Shido. Not to mention your involvement with that side. That puts you in danger, so we’ve kept an eye out. On both you and your team.”

That… hadn’t been what he’d expected. “What do you mean by danger? Shido, I can understand. But the Metaverse was destroyed when we defeated Yaldabaoth.” Assuming they understood what that meant.

“The distortion created by Yaldabaoth was destroyed with him,” the silver haired man corrected. “But he’s not the first false god to exist, nor was the Metaverse the first distortion. The TV World we entered was created by Izanami, and the fog that spread across to this side a few years ago was a manifestation of it in the real world similar to the bleed over in Tokyo a few months ago.”

“Ugh,” Hanamura shuddered. “That was seriously freaky. All those bones everywhere…”

“Seriously,” Kujikawa agreed with a wince. “Like a bunch of rib cages popping out of the ground.”

Shirogane grimaced. “Not to mention the Shadows. The Shadow Operatives all had our hands full keeping them off the ground and away from the civilians.”

That made Akira’s head snap up. “There were Shadows attacking people?”

Judging by their expressions they hadn’t meant to let that slip.

“Ah,” Shirogane glanced away with a wince. “There were, yes, but we managed to fight off the worst of them. Thankfully the distortion was centralized to Shibuya, and we’d prepared for the possibility, so we had a limited area to protect and our full force gathered.”

“It was fine!” Hanamura assured him quickly. “We had it covered. You guys had your hands full dealing with the higher Shadows and Yaldabaoth anyway, there’s no way you could have handled both.”

That was true. They had been stretched to their limit just with what they had faced, but… The fact that the Shadows had been attacking defenseless people…

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because the adults looked sympathetic, which… didn’t really make him feel better. But what was done was done, so he tried to shake it off.

“So the TV world you mentioned…”

“You’ve heard of the Midnight Channel, right?” Satonaka asked, and at his nod continued. “Well, that’s a sort of lead-in to the TV World on the other side. We can literally go into any TV- as long as it’s in Inaba, because that’s where the distortion is located- and get to the TV World.”

“Buncha us got thrown in ‘cause we were on the news, so people got curious which sorta affected the TV World and made us show up on the Midnight Channel- then Namatame thought we were gonna die so he threw us into the TV.” Tatsumi added.

That… huh?

Shiho tilted her head. “Namatame, the… mayor?”

“Oh god, I forgot about that,” Hanamura snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay, so basically…” He gave a quick rundown of what had happened and Akira stared blankly.

The only thing he could think to say was, “It’s always the detective, huh?”

That made several of them choke on laughs, and Shirogane sighed. The guy at the front smiled wryly. “Would you believe me if I said not all of us are like that that?”

“I’m starting to wonder,” Akira deadpanned. Great, there were _three_ of them. Granted, they’d made it pretty clear that they were on their side, but he couldn’t deny it made him nervous. “What are they Shadow Operatives? You’ve mentioned it a couple of times.”

“Ah, right,” Hanamura nodded and explained about the Kirijo group and SEES and how they’d met, and formed an organization that had then worked with the government and had its research stolen. And it was interesting, it explained a lot about Shido’s conspiracy but-

But Akira couldn’t move past the initial explanation. Because… because it was _familiar._ He _knew_ that story, had been dreaming it for months now. But…

He found his gaze drifting to the sketchbook, still open to the page of the door and the statue. That didn’t explain the dreams.

Akira was pulled out of his musings by the sense of someone getting closer, and glanced up to see the guy looking at his sketchbook, wide-eyed.

“That’s…”

So they recognized it. “I don’t know. I…” he hesitated, uncertain. They’d seemed to be unequivocally on their side, but… he didn’t really like the idea of trusting complete strangers. Even so, he liked the lack of explanation even less. “I’ve… been having dreams for months now.” He flipped the sketchbook to the beginning and turned it so they could see as he slowly flipped through pages.

“Whoa…” Tatsumi leaned forward. “That’s definitely Iwatodai, yeah?”

“Yes, it is,” Shirogane agreed, bringing a hand to her mouth.

Hanamura tapped his leg, staring at the book, then glanced at the other guy. “We should definitely let Mitsuru know about this, right partner?”

Why did _none_ of them use his name?

He nodded, eying the page of Shadows thoughtfully. “If Arisato is somehow involved, this is definitely something they’ll want to know. Moreso if it has to do with the Seal.” He glanced up to Akira. “Do you have any idea as to why they’re happening?”

If he had, he wouldn’t be so concerned about it. Akira shook his head. “I’ve only seen glimpses, a couple of minutes at a time at most, and they’re usually hazy and out of context. I brushed them off completely at first because they felt like snippets of other dreams. But the past couple of months they’ve gotten a lot clearer, and they’re happening multiple times a week now. Other than the door, and a couple of glimpses of what I assume to be the fight against Nyx, most of it is just normal stuff.”

“That’s so _weird,”_ Satonaka murmured.

Yeah well, it didn’t make any sense to him either.

“It’s definitely something we need to tell Mitsuru about,” the guy mused, crossing his arms. “Has anything aside from that happened?”

Akira shook his head. “It’s just been the dreams. I’m not sure where they came from or why they’re happening.”

He was quiet for a moment, considering, staring at the notebook. Then: “Up for a field trip?”

Field trip, as it turned out, was three days of them arranging something via phone calls, Shirogane, Satonaka, and Narukami- as it turned out his name was- showing up at his house for a friendly- then not so friendly when his parents became themselves about him- announcement that they needed him for legal things regarding evidence and information about the conspiracy, a friendlier conversation with Shiho’s parents about bringing her along, and then a several hour train trip to a city called Iwatodai.

Akira tried not to think too hard about why that name struck a chord in him, even though the dreams of the past three days had been more vivid and intense than usual.

The trip wasn’t boring, at least, with the rest of the Investigation Team talking and laughing and initiating a fast paced and intense game of Go Fish that Akira dropped out of once Shiho and Amagi- Yukiko- got near-identical challenging expressions on their faces. Naruka- Yu, and… Naoto (they’d been given permission to use their given names, but it still felt… strange) were quick to follow, but the others decided to try to hold their own.

He was sure they would regret it, but it would be amusing to watch.

Leaning back against the seat- everyone else was settled in the center of the floor of the mostly-empty car- Akira watched with pangs of bittersweet amusement. The sight reminded him a lot of the others, it was absolutely something the Thieves would do during one of their sleepovers.

He missed them.

“I was the same way, after I left Inaba,” Nar- Yu murmured as he settled across from him. “Phone calls just aren’t enough.”

“Yeah… still, it won’t be for long. Once I graduate and head back to Tokyo for university, I’ll be able to see them whenever I want.”

Yu sent him a small, mysterious smile. “You might be able to see them sooner than you think.”

Akira blinked, lowering his hand from where it had been fiddling with his fringe.   
They’re meeting us there?”

“Since we aren’t certain what’s causing it, and our attempt at giving you space didn’t work, we thought it best to go ahead and be completely transparent about the situation,” Yu confirmed, shaking his head with wry amusement. “Good to know my ability to be mysterious is wasted.”

Akira snorted. “I’m a thief. The mystique is my area of expertise, _detective.”_

Yu acknowledged his point with an incline of his head and a bitten back smile. It made something pleased curl in Akira’s chest, though he wasn’t sure why. Acknowledgement of another wildcard, perhaps.

“No!” Chie wailed from the floor, and they glanced over to see Yukiko smiling sympathetically at her with an outstretched hand. “Yukiko, how could you? I trusted you, I had _one card_ left to get!”

“Sorry Chie, but I need another book or I’ll lose, and you were the most convenient grab.”

“So cruel…”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised as she leaned over to kiss Chie’s cheek and take her winnings. “ _After_ I win.”

“And that’s Miss Satonaka out of the game, competition is tight-!”

“Don’t kid yourself Teddie,” Yosuke sighed as he handed two of his cards to a smiling Shiho, a smug Morgana looking over her shoulder. “Those two are the only competitors, we’re just here for them us use as bait and shields against each other. If _someone else_ had stayed in the game-”

“I know how to pick my battles,” Yu said with an amused smile. “I don’t feel like being humiliated today.”

“Rude-”

“Yosuke, do you have any aces?”

“-dammit Yukiko!”

“And that’s Yosuke out,” Yu murmured. “Case in point.”

Shiho ended up winning by a single card.

Akira just laughed as the adults nursed their wounded pride- minus the two detectives who had taken the wiser path and forfeited early. It was the happiest he’d been since leaving Tokyo.

That happiness compounded greatly as they stepped out of the train station to be greeted by shouts of excitement, and the next thing they knew Akira and Shiho were being bowled over by their individual exuberant blonds.

Shiho and Morgana immediately started complaining to Ann and Ryuji that they had to breathe, but Akira just gave a watery laugh as he pressed his forehead to Ryuji’s shoulder and squeezed him back. He pulled away as the others surrounded them excitedly, grinning around at them as Futaba ducked under his arm and Yusuke loomed behind him. Even Mishima was there, beaming as he bounced on his toes. Hell, even Sojiro and Sae were making their way over more slowly, eyeing the mass of excited teenagers fondly.

Yu sent him an understanding look as he passed them to go talk to Sae.

It was hard to focus with everyone talking over each other at once, but that was fine. Just their presence and happiness was enough.

But they _were_ in front of a train station.

“Alright, alright, c’mon you guys,” Sojiro called laughingly. “You’re blocking the entrance, out of the way. He’s not gonna disappear if you take your eyes off him for a minute.”

“I’m not so sure about that…” Makoto sighed, smiling wryly.

“I’ll behave, promise,” Akira teased.

“No you won’t!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Wow, thanks guys,” Akira drawled as he dragged Ryuji and Futaba away from the entrance. “Really feeling the love.”

“You know we’re right,” Futaba sniffed, then gave him a sly smile. “And just so you know… I _love_ your accent.”

“I do _not_ have an accent.”

“Uhh… you kinda do, dude.”

“I do not!”

“The Inaba drawl,” Yosuke sighed. “It’s contagious, I’m afraid.”

“Oh shut up, Yosuke!” Chie groaned, punching his shoulder lightly. “Like you’re some high-brow city-slicker.”

“Maybe not, but at least I don’t draw out my a’s like a dumbass.”

“Take that back you son of a-!”

“Children,” Naoto sighed. “We _are_ on a schedule, if you recall. Mitsuru is waiting.”

“And you’re embarrassing yourselves in front of the _kohai_ s,” Yu added with a smirk.

Shiho snorted. “Too late for that, I spent the whole ride here beating their asses into the floor at Go Fish.”

Ann, Ryuji, and Mishima all cringed. “You guys played Go Fish?” Ryuji asked sympathetically.

“I’m so sorry,” Ann sighed. “She’s always been terrifying at that for some reason.”

Mishima had a distant look. “Just be glad it wasn’t Spoons…”

Ann _shuddered._ “We don’t speak of that.”

“Look I apologized,” Shiho frowned at them.

Akira decided that he really didn’t want to know, and looked at Yu. “Lead the way.”

As he stepped forward to follow though, the world- twisted, and-

_-the moon was large and bright overhead-_

_-his footsteps echoed in the total silence behind his headphones as his MP3 player stayed unlit-_

_-there were strange puddles of blood slowly seeping across the ground from nowhere-_

_-coffins plunged into the air around him as he wove between them-_

Akira wavered for a moment, blinking the- vision? memory?- from his gaze, and shook his head. That was… strange. The fact that they were crossing over from dream into reality… he wondered how concerned he should be.

Especially as it kept happening.

Walking down the street and a glance to the side-

_-the bookstore the elderly couple owned and a persimmon tree in the school courtyard-_

The road split abruptly and they turned to the left but to the right-

_-the police officer Akihiko had introduced him to was gruff, but always had good weapon recomendations-_

A ramen shop that smelled amazing enough that Ryuji sent it a longing look-

_-his favorite ramen shop that Kenji and Junpei introduced him to-_

A pair of trees growing entwined next to a shrine-

_-Keisuke had dragged him out here looking for the perfect shot for his contest entry-_

_-Koromaru struggled to get to his feet as Ken shouted and faced the Shadow down-_

A long stretch of flat concrete along the waterway-

_-Kazushi insisted it was the perfect place to train, and Yuko just sighed-_

And a bridge rising in the distance-

 _-burning cars burning bridge the moon was too big too bright two figures fighting a girl_ **_fire pain-_ **

_-Aigis lying on the ground SEES around him Ryoji-_

_-Ryoji-_

_-DeathPharosNyxItrustedyou-_

_-No, no, you’re my friend Nyx be damned I_ **_won’t kill you_ ** _-_

He was positive the others noticed his reactions and increasing shakiness, but his Thieves just pressed close as the adults sent him worried looks. He was grateful, because he wasn’t sure what to say.

It took more strength of will than it should have to turn and follow Yu down a road opposite of the one that felt so familiar-

_-he sighed and turned the corner to the dorm, mouth quirking up at the sight of Koromaru diligently waiting for them to return, Fuuka reading on the steps next to him-_

-but he bit back the response and followed until they finally reached a large building that he- thankfully- didn’t recognize. The headache didn’t recede, but at least it didn’t get worse.

There was a secretary at the front desk who smiled and waved them through and down the hall to a few large elevators.

The trip up to the third floor was quick, and he noted his friends glancing around at the sleek and classy interior with awe and trepidation. He had to agree, it had the same aura that the Wilton Buffet did and Haru was the only one who appeared unflustered at the high-class feel. Unsurprisingly. Futaba had his arm in a death grip, almost visibly straining against the urge to poke at the touchpad built into the elevator.

The third floor was as sleek as the rest of the building, but there was an air of purposeful functionality to it rather than the elegant grandeur of the entrance and elevators.

Yosuke must head read his thoughts on his face, because he explained. “Due to the nature of our operations, we like to present a certain front to our connections. So the entrance and conference floors are all kinda… ornate. Everywhere else is designed for functionality, because we do actual work here.”

“You should see the seventh floor,” Chie snorted. “Like something from those super fancy conference centers or something.”

“It’s important to keep up appearances, and people are more likely to work with us if we present the front they want to see,” Rise shrugged twirling backwards to face them. “Government pencil pushers are impressed by luxury, and it makes them more willing to trust that we can actually do our jobs.”

“That sounds rather typical,” Sae agreed with a sigh.

Yu glanced back as he stopped at a door. “We’re used to it by now, Mitsuru and her teams deal just fine with it. The rest of us are field agents, so we thankfully avoid the worst of the political maneuvering.” He swiped a keycard across the pad, and the door clicked open as the light flashed green.

Rather than looking at the group of people across the room as they stepped in- he knew who he would see, and he wasn’t quite ready for whatever reaction _that_ would draw- Akira took a moment to survey the room.

The far wall was covered in large computer monitors, filled with scrolling data he couldn’t read. There were long rectangular tables scattered across the room, the dark floors were carpeted, and the walls were metallic. It looked like a sci-fi show and a spy show had crossed over, and he was kind of impressed. The others seemed equally so.

Taking a quiet breath, Akira reluctantly turned his attention to the other people in the room. He was immediately struck by an intense well of emotions- the same way he’d felt when he’d reunited with his team after they’d gotten him out. This was different- they _weren’t_ his team, these _weren’t_ his emotions, but- he understood. Why Arisato would feel these emotions.

But why was _Akira_ feeling them?

A redhead stood at the front, tall and regal-

_-Mitsuru stood with her back straight and her expression set, even though she’d lost so much she hadn’t lost her will-_

-and behind her-

 _-Akihiko had clenched fists and a set jaw as he nodded to him with determination. Junpei was glaring up at the tower defiantly, even as his hands shook. Yukari was shaking as she clutched her bow, but she didn’t waver as she glanced to him. Ken clutched at his staff, Koromaru standing steady at his side as they stared up at the path ahead. Fuuka’s hands were clasped as she bit her lip, but she was no less determined than the others. Aigis stood at his side, an unwavering and solid presence that steadied him of his own fear. There was a pang at the missing space where Shinji should be, another at the thought of_ **_who_ ** _would be awaiting them at the top- regardless of his own feelings of the matter._

 _No matter what Ryoji thought- he would prove him wrong. They_ **_would_ ** _win. No matter what it took._

_If only-_

Akira hissed out a quiet breath, shaking his head to dislodge the memory. It wasn’t his, but it was uncomfortably familiar nonetheless.

It was a mirror of his own team right before they climbed to reach Yaldabaoth.

The feeling of everyone’s eyes on him was an uncomfortable prickling sensation, and he shifted up and slid his hands in his pockets as he stepped forward smoothly, sliding into Joker’s persona. He felt more than saw his Thieves follow suit, and the feeling of his team prepared for action at his back soothed his discomfort.

“Kirijo-san,” he greeted cordially, taking care to push back the tangible familiarity. He wasn’t familiar with her, and he wasn’t going to slip up due to overlapping realities.

“Kurusu-kun,” she responded with an inclined head. “It’s good to meet you in person, though admittedly I was hoping for less interesting circumstances.” She crossed her arms, eying him thoughtfully. “The Investigation Team filled me in on the basics, but I’d like to hear your thoughts on it.”

Getting right to it, it seemed. That was fine, it left less room for potential awkwardness and… reactions.

Akira took a breath and gave a rundown of the dreams. He avoided the specifics, left people and the timeline he’d pieced together vague, but explained the general overview of them. It drew frowns from everyone, thoughtfulness and concern overlapping. He could tell how uneasy the situation made his team. The last time something supernatural had drawn him in through his dreams-

This was different than what had happened with Yaldabaoth and the Velvet Room, but it didn’t change the fact that there wasn’t anything they could do to back him up with this.

The other teams were concerned too, but he could see SEES fighting back something like hope, and it sent a pang through his chest.

Whether it was his or Arisato’s- he didn’t know. But it didn’t hurt any less either way.

“That’s strange, and rather concerning…” Mitsuru covered her mouth, considering. “I can’t imagine what connection you could possibly have, beyond being wildcards. But in that case, why _you_ and not Yu? Do you have any ideas?”

Akira shook his head. “As far as I’m aware, I’ve never met him. And I know I’ve never been to Iwatodai before. We were both wildcards with access to the Velvet Room, but I have a lot more in common with Yu than Arisato.” Beyond the obvious, they were really nothing alike, with no connection. So why?

Mitsuru sighed and swept a hand through her hair. “I wonder… well, perhaps we’ll find something if we scan you?”

“Scan him?” Sae tilted her head with a frown, not quite _protective,_ but wary. He appreciated it.

Mitsuru inclined her head, answering reassuringly. “Nothing harmful, I promise. Our Navigator’s Persona has the ability to evaluate the status of others, and it’s possible there’s a metaphysical reason for the connection. In which case, a Persona is the only method of disclosing the information.”

He could see the reluctance in her and Sojiro’s posture, and even his own team seemed uncertain despite their familiarity with a Navi’s abilities. Even Futaba seemed torn, biting her lip like she couldn’t decide between excitement or wariness. “It’s fine,” he assured them. “It’s nothing Oracle didn’t do regularly.” Every single trip to the Metaverse, actually. “It’s not like we don’t know what that entailed.”

“It’s _because_ I know what it entailed that I’m so worried,” Futaba muttered under her breath, and-

Well, it didn’t surprise him that she knew more than she ever told them about, downplaying exactly how much of _them_ she could find when examining their souls. But that was true in the real world too, what with her presence on their phones.

And he wouldn’t say that it didn’t bother him, or that he liked the idea of Fuuka having access to that much of his being, but… well. He _knew_ the dreams- the memories- were having an influence on him. He had no reason to trust Fuuka, or any of the others, but he did. And he knew that was a side effect to Arisato’s memories because Akira did _not_ trust so easily. So the fact that he trusted them as much as he did was out of character, and telling.

But he also wanted to know _what the hell was going on,_ so it wasn’t entirely trust.

Akira shrugged at them. “Better to know now than get a nasty surprise a week after thinking we’re done with everything.”

That made them snort and chuckle and relax a bit, nodding reluctantly. A repeat of Yaldabaoth was the last thing any of them wanted.

Taking a small breath to steady himself, Akira stepped forward into the space between the two groups. Even that small bit of distance between himself and his team made the uneasiness return, and he kept his breathing steady and tried not to fidget with his cuffs and draw attention to the scars around his wrists.

The sight of Fuuka pulling out her Evoker and raising it to her head made his heart jump- dual contradictory emotions swirling in his chest. The comforting familiarity of the sight from his dreams clashing with the bolt of apprehension as he fought to keep his breathing even and his hands from trembling.

“Come, Juno.”

Most of the time, Akira wasn’t aware of Oracle’s scans of him. Or perhaps he was simply so used to them that he tuned the sensation out entirely, because he never got a feeling of discomfort from the action. Even outside battle, he only really registered it when she specifically pointed it out. It was… comfortable, knowing she had an eye on their stats if they needed a heal or boost.

Fuuka’s presence was very prevalent, and very uncomfortable, and he fought back the instinctive flinch. His body prickled at the sensation of being _seen,_ of being _known,_ the feeling of eyes on him and seeing through him, and-

His Personas stirred uneasily, Arsène rising protectively in his chest. He took a slow breath to calm himself, pushing Arsène back to keep his presence from spilling out. He didn’t want everyone else to realize how anxious he was.

Judging from Fuuka’s furrowed brow as she dismissed Juno, though, he had a sinking feeling she’d noticed. Great.

At everyone’s questioning looks, she shook her head. “I couldn’t find anything unusual, and nothing tying to Minato. I’m not sure what that means for the situation, though.”

That didn’t make sense. There had to be _something._ Could she just not sense it then? But why not?

The members of SEES frowned, and he saw Aigis tilt her head. “I concede the point, I can detect nothing of Minato’s presence either.”

Why?

If it wasn’t that, then what?

Akihiko sighed, leaning against the long computer counter. “We sure? There’s obviously something going on, and if it’s not Minato then I can’t imagine what it would be.” His fingers rested on a plastic case next to him, pained nostalgia in his expression.

“What else _could_ it be though?” Yukari murmured, eyes downcast, and Akira’s chest hurt.

Upsetting them was the last thing he’d wanted, but-

Akira twitched, suppressing the urge to grab at his head as it ached. That wasn’t _him._ But if it wasn’t Arisato- that didn’t make sense, it _had_ to be because nothing else made sense, so what was he _missing_?

Mitsuru shook her head with pursed lips. “I don’t know. That was the only theory I had, because nothing else fits the situation.” She cast a glance at the case at well, and it piqued his interest.

“That’s…?”

She blinked, startled, then sighed and moved to open it. “A remnant, I suppose. We couldn’t bring ourselves to decommission it or pass it on, so we set it aside.” As she lifted the object from the case, Akira’s breath caught.

The Evoker glimmered in the light, and Akira recognized it. The nicks and scratches from countless battles- a long thin scratch where he’d deflected a needle, a nick on the barrel where he’d caught a bufu attack before it could hit Junpei, a slight crack on the trigger guard where he’d caught Nyx’s sword- no, not him, but he remembered all the same and-

Something burned in his chest, one of his Personas that usually hung in the back of his mind rearing to the forefront, and Akira grabbed his head as Arsène rose up to block him. He distantly heard his name, but shook his head and hissed out, “Give me a minute.”

_Arsène, back off._

His Persona pulled back slightly, still acting as a shield between Akira’s mind and the other Persona, but there was no hostility between them. He’d taken them both off guard and they’d reacted accordingly, but now-

Well, a lot of things suddenly made sense.

_That’s why. You’ve been trying to get my attention._

Orpheus Picaro didn’t respond- or maybe he _couldn’t_ respond, Akira realized. Unlike any of Akira’s other Personas, he’d never spoken. Even when first created. Maybe he _couldn’t,_ with the person he was tied to beyond the world of the living.

Akira couldn’t help but appreciate the irony. _Does that make Minato Eurydice?_

Still, he’d obviously been trying to reach them, and judging by the reaction when the Evoker had been drawn-

A flicker of an image-

_-“Evokers are created by adding a Plume of Dusk, a piece of Nyx scattered from previous incarnations. The power of the Goddess of Death allows-”-_

“-souls to be made manifest even in the real world,” Akira murmured, opening his eyes to focus on the Evoker. He understood now.

“What?”

Everyone was looking at him, confused and concerned, and he shook his head as he stepped forward. “I didn’t realize, because Arsène usually acts as a buffer between my mind and the rest of my Personas, so his presence was blocking it without us realizing.” Everything felt distant, like it was being filtered through a dream. “But it’s been there the whole time.” He reached out and plucked the Evoker from Mitsuru’s grip, and though her fingers twitched reluctantly, she didn’t stop him.

He twirled the gun into a firm grip as he raised it, left arm stretching as he shifted his stance to account for the recoil as he had a thousand times before, and he saw their eyes widen in shocked recognition and felt something warm curl through his chest at the knowledge that even after seven years, they still remembered his battle stance-

Akira pulled the trigger, with the call, “Orpheus Picaro!”

The recoil blinded him for a moment, the shock rushing cold through his veins in a sensation terrifyingly similar to the last time he’d had a gun to his head, though there had been no Persona and a veil between dimensions then. Even the dreams couldn’t truly encapsulate the feeling, and Akira shuddered and gasped for breath even as blue fire swirled around him, coalescing into a familiar shape behind him.

He turned in time to see Orpheus Picaro tilt his head, only for the fire to flare and when it faded-

“That’s-!”

“N-No way…”

“Is it-?”

“Orpheus,” Aigis said, staring with a stunned expression.

The Persona looked at them for a moment, blank expression seeming to warm for a second, and then he looked back at Akira, and he was struck with a wave of dizziness. He swayed, leaned too far forward, and stumbled into a fall as the world went dark for a moment.

A hand caught his shoulder and the world cleared. Akira blinked to focus his vision, and looked up to find a boy with blue hair watching him.

“You’re-” Akira jolted and looked around. The room and everyone in it was gone. In its place was a now familiar door, with the statue in front of it, but… something was wrong. Rather than sturdy and untouched, the statue was faded and spiderwebbed with cracks. Even the wires holding it seemed fragile. “-Arisato. What’s… happening?”

The boy grimaced, and Akira noted how exhausted he looked. Like he’d been holding the weight of the world on his shoulders and was running out of strength. “We’re running out of time. Even after tapping into The Universe, a human soul can only do so much. The World was enough to purify Izanami and destroy Yaldabaoth, but a seal is different. Holding a seal on a Goddess forever is impossible, and I’m almost out of time. It’s breaking, and when it does-”

Akira grabbed his wrist, frowning at him. “You’ll die for real, and Nyx will be unleashed again. What about Erebus?”

Arisato shook his head. “Even without Erebus, there’s enough of a call for Nyx to return to the world. She’s trying.” His grip tightened on Akira’s shoulder. “You were the only one I could reach, I’m not sure why. But something has to be done before the seal breaks, or it’ll be what happened seven years ago all over again.”

“How long do we have?”

Arisato grimaced. “The end of the year, at most. I’ll hold it as long as I can, but she’s fighting again and human souls can only do so much. December at the latest.”

Before Akira could respond, there was a crashing sound and the platform shook. The doors creaked loudly, but held, but Arisato scowled over his shoulder. “She knows I’m distracted. I wish I could do more, but I’ll have to leave it to you all.” He looked back to Akira, eyes determined, even behind the exhaustion. “You need to go, before she starts pushing harder.”

Akira tightened his grip for a moment. “We’ll come, and we’ll take care of things. Don’t worry about us.”

Arisato’s tight look softened into a smile, and he squeezed Akira’s shoulder. “I know. I have full faith in you all. Thank you, Akira.”

“Of course, Minato.”

The boy’s smile widened slightly, and then he let go of Akira’s shoulder.

Everything darkened again for a moment, and when Akira blinked he was back in the computer room, kneeling on the ground with Aigis and Fuuka next to him, and his team hovering a few feet away. Orpheus hovered there for another moment, then flashed back to his Picaro form before fading away.

Akira let out a low, quiet, shaky breath, and ran his hand through his hair as the others all began talking at once.

He waited for Mitsuru, Makoto, and Sae to calm everyone down, before speaking.

It was a short explanation, but he could see that it left them reeling. He watched SEES react anxiously as they talked, and though the familiarity had faded with Minato’s presence he could still see their upset.

With it, though, came determination. The chance to fix this, to get him back- it was more than they’d hoped for, and they were as eager as they were nervous as they began debating with the other Shadow Ops members.

Akira managed to extract himself, and slipped back over to his own team.

He was immediately dragged into a rough hug by Ryuji and Ann, Futaba tackling him from behind as the others gathered around.

“Please do not ever shoot yourself without prior warning again,” Makoto sighed, tone as pained as her expression.

“You scared the _shit_ outta me, man,” Ryuji mumbled into his shoulder.

Akira relaxed and leaned into them with relief, soaking up the warmth to fight off the lingering chill from doing just that. “Sorry. I was… not entirely here.”

“Yeah, we kind of noticed.” Shiho frowned at him. “You got all… distant.”

Akira shrugged apologetically. “Minato was pushing really hard, and it was kind of…” he trailed off, trying to explain it in a slightly less alarming way than ‘halfway possessed’. “I was sort of pulling a lot on his memories and experiences, so I was half here and half in his memories,” he settled on. Not exactly how it went down, but close enough.

“Are you alright?” Haru asked with a touch to his arm.

“I’m fine,” he assured them. “It took me off guard, but I wasn’t hurt.” He cast a long glance at the case where the Evoker once again rested. “I have no idea how we’re going to pull _this_ off, though.”

“Well you already killed one god,” Mishima mused, hands in his pockets. “What’s another?”

“Other than beyond the veil of death?” Akira wondered dryly. “But at least this time we have three teams and a full operative endorsement, so there’s that.”

Sojiro sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You kids really are… something. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Akira sent him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Boss. We don’t really have much of a choice this time, though.”

 _And,_ Akira thought to himself as he remembered Minato’s exhausted expression and posture, _I wouldn’t turn away even if we did._

“So we’re gonna be working in a huge team this time…” Ann mused tapping her chin. “This will be interesting.”

“Quite,” Makoto sighed, swiping at her bangs. “Let’s hope we can cooperate efficiently.”

“I think we’ll be fine.” Akira glanced over to see the Shadow Ops sneaking concerned glances at them. “They haven’t given us a reason to distrust them yet.”

“True,” Makoto shifted her wight with a smile. “I suppose we’ll simply have to do our best to work with them.”

Akira thought back to the past few days, as he and Shiho had hung out with the Investigation Team. To the open concern everyone had shown even just over the past couple of hours.

He smiled at them, and he couldn’t pinpoint why, but- “I think we’ll be just fine.”

Besides, Minato had full faith in them.

The couldn’t afford to fail. ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes are killing me slowly but steadily, I have no time and my stress levels are through the roof. I have multiple group projects and boy are those _fun :)_
> 
> Also, I finally finished watching Royal and cried all the way through third semester, and 2/2 _hurt me._ But that True Ending made me scream and I have _ideas._ I won’t include Royal stuff in this fic, but I’ll probably make a few separate things eventually because _man that angst potential._ Now I just have to get through Scramble/Strikers when I have the time.
> 
> This chapter was also really hard to get out for some reason? I’m not sure why, but it just didn’t want to flow. But I’m satisfied with it for now, and it’s the idea that’s really the fun part anyway, so… here. My first update in like. Three weeks? A month?
> 
> A while. Sorry for the wait, let me know what you thought of this!


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